Nineteen Years
by TomYoung
Summary: The war is over and the wizarding world's rebuilding begins - but when a new threat is revealed, Harry Potter finds himself in the spotlight once again.  The story of the "missing" nineteen years, staying true to the details disclosed by J.K. Rowling.
1. Chapter 1: Fall Out

**Chapter 1 ****– Fall Out**

"'_That wand's more trouble than it's worth,' said Harry._

'_And quite honestly,' he turned away from the painted portraits, thinking now only of the four-poster bed lying waiting for him in Gryffindor Tower, and wondering whether Kreacher might bring him a sandwich there, 'I've had enough trouble for a lifetime.'"_

Harry strode towards the door, with Ron and Hermione close behind him. They made their way down the spiral staircase, and clambered over the gargoyle that still lay on the floor.

'Thanks,' said Harry, looking back over his shoulder.

'Anytime,' groaned the gargoyle.

Harry led them out of the castle and down to the lakeside, where Dumbledore's still broken tomb stood. Harry stared down at the lifeless form of his late mentor, his arms folded up towards his chest, still gripping at where the elder wand had been. It was surprising how well the marble grave had preserved the body. Without thinking, Harry reached out and placed a hand upon Dumbledore's.

'Thanks Professor,' said Harry, 'couldn't have done it without you.'

As he gazed at the old man's face, Harry couldn't help but think that Dumbledore appeared to be smiling. He removed the Elder Wand from his pocket and returned it to Dumbledore's fingers; the tip pointing up towards his face. Harry stepped back, removed his own wand from his other pocket, and pointing it at the tomb, muttered, 'Reparo'.

The two halves of the marble scraped towards each other, with the low, dull roar of stone grating against stone. They seamlessly melded together over Dumbledore's body, protecting the great wizard's continuous sleep once again.

'There's going to be a few tough weeks ahead of us,' said Hermione, 'I... I guess the first funerals will be in a week or so.'

Ron made a small, sad sniff, and Hermione wrapped her arm around his waist. 'Fred died fighting,' she said, looking into his eyes, 'don't you ever forget that.'

'If it wasn't for him and George,' said Harry, patting Ron on the shoulder, 'we'd have all given in to fear years ago. We'd have had far fewer laughs without them.'

'I know,' said Ron, 'I just... I just wish he wasn't gone.' Hermione pulled him into a tight hug, before leaving a soft kiss on his lips.

Harry turned away to give them some privacy. He thought for a moment about what Voldemort had said, that he'd let others die to protect him. A torrent of anger flushed through his system. He couldn't ever let it look like he didn't appreciate the sacrifice his friends, and many complete strangers, had made.

'I'm going to the funerals,' he said, firmly. 'All of them.'

Ron & Hermione looked around at him. Harry couldn't see it, but they both had looks on their faces that knew he wouldn't have done anything else.

'We'll come too,' said Hermione.

'S'only right,' Ron sniffed, as Hermione wiped a few tears from his cheeks. 'They all gave their lives, same as you Harry, and we have to support the families.'

The trio started walking back up to the castle, or at least, what was left of it. The wreckage covered the grounds; huge chunks of the battlements lay at the base of the walls, having been ripped away by the giants. In fact, one of the giants lay dead amongst the dust as well; the impact marks of a hundred different curses etched into its leathery skin.

'What about Teddy Lupin?' Hermione wondered, sadly. 'Who's going to look after him?'

'I expect Andromeda Tonks will,' said Harry, as they started to walk back towards the castle. 'Although, I'll certainly be a regular visitor; after all, what are Godfathers for?'

They passed the body of Nagini, still lying in the grass. With a small flick of her wand, Hermione set the Snake's headless corpse on fire. As it burned to ashes, the cool May breeze blew them up into the air, scattering them into the settling dusk.

They reached the top of the steps, and walked through the archway where the large doors had been hanging before the battle. The doors themselves now lay on the floor of the entrance hall, blasted off from their hinges by the invading Death Eaters. As they went to climb the marble staircase, with every intention of going up to the dormitories to sleep, Ginny came out of the Great Hall. She caught Harry's eye, and he could see the tear tracks, still running down her cheeks, glimmering in the half-light. He felt so very sad for her, but he could find neither enough words nor the right words to express the emotion. In the end, as they met at the top of the stairs, it was Ginny who broke the silence.

'Hi,' she said, quietly.

'Hi,' he replied. She looked up to meet his eyes, and for the first time in months, Harry felt the once familiar sensation of a lion roaring, triumphantly, in his stomach.

'We'll meet you upstairs, mate,' said Ron, patting Harry on the back, but subtly edging him closer to Ginny. He and Hermione turned and headed off up the stairs, Hermione still with an arm around Ron's waist and her head rested on his shoulder.

Harry & Ginny stood alone in the corridor, still gazing into each other's eyes. Harry still didn't know where to start.

'How do you feel?' Ginny asked.

'Exhausted. You?'

'Emotional,' she said, half laughing, half sobbing, as fresh tears started to stream down her face. Harry still didn't know what to say, but that didn't matter, as there was only one thing Ginny wanted to hear.

'Did you miss me?' she muttered. Harry drew breath, he was a little stunned that this was her first question, and he took a step towards her. They were now separated by mere inches.

'Every single minute,' he replied. 'I've been using the Marauder's map to watch your dot while you were still here.'

Tears continued to fall silently from Ginny's cheeks. 'I was worried you might have forgotten about me,' she said, for the first time looking away from Harry and down to her feet.

'No chance. You made sure I'd remember, in your room, on my seventeenth.' Harry smiled at her. He wiped a tear from her cheek, and thought how even in her sadness, she remained as beautiful as ever. 'But I don't think it would hurt to have a reminder.' Harry grinned, as Ginny looked up to meet his eyes again, but now with a raised eyebrow.

'Oh yeah?' she said, 'what makes you think I want you back?'

A smile broke across her face for the first time, and they threw their arms around each other in a tight hug.

'Don't you dare leave me again,' she said, her head nestled against his chest. 'Never ever, you hear me?'

'Never ever,' Harry repeated. As he pulled her towards his lips for their first kiss in almost a year, his fingers brushed across her cheek and back into her beautiful, dust-filled, auburn hair. But the dust didn't matter. They'd missed each other so much, and both poured ten months of emotion and separation into that one kiss. All the cares of the day washed away from Harry as Ginny's lips clung to his. For the first time in seven years, the first time since Hagrid had told him the truth about how his parents had died, Harry, finally, felt his anger, his hatred of Voldemort, and his feeling of isolation melting away.

After several tender minutes, during which time Harry suspected many people had passed the two of them on their way to bed, they broke apart. Silently, Harry took Ginny's hand, and they started up the stairs towards Gryffindor tower. At the top of the staircase, without asking for a password, the fat lady in the pink dress swung forward to admit the pair.

'No sense stopping you dear boy!' she beamed. 'I'm under orders from Professor McGonagall to let anyone in tonight. You've made Gryffindor proud!'

Muttering, 'thanks', hand in hand they entered the familiar common room. Harry closed his eyes and breathed in his home.

The common room remained unchanged, except for a few things. A few windows had been shattered during the fight, and there were a few dark green scorch marks in the ceiling where stray curses had flown from the grounds below and up through the windows. Finally, over the mantel piece stood a large moving picture of Harry, Ron & Hermione. All three were waving triumphantly out at the room's occupants. Underneath hung a banner with the words _"OUR FRIENDS AT WAR"_ emblazoned across it.

The room itself was full of battle-worn students, each quietly making up beds for themselves. Seamus and Dean were carefully transfiguring arm-chairs into mattresses, in order to provide more bedding for the influx of exhausted victors. Standing in the middle of the room, talking quietly amongst themselves, were Ron, Hermione, Neville and Luna.

'We're all going to sleep down here for tonight, Harry,' said Neville, acknowledging his friends' arrival with a small smile. 'We told the Weasleys to sleep upstairs in the dormitories, and some of the other Order members too.'

'Nice idea, Neville,' said Ginny, and she planted a small, thankful kiss on his cheek.

They each made up their beds, Harry and Ginny shared a mattress, as did Ron and Hermione, whilst Neville and Luna made up separate beds for themselves near the fire.

Harry was now so tired that as soon as the bed was made he kicked off his shoes, and removed his jeans and jacket, both of which were covered in the forbidden forest's dusty earth. He crawled under the covers. Ginny got in beside him and cuddled up close.

'My brave, brave Harry,' she whispered as he closed his eyes. She removed his glasses, placed them carefully into his shoe, and then leaned over Harry, kissing him very gently on his scar. The feeling sent shivers down his spine, and Harry thought to himself, what a much more pleasant sensation it was than the prickling pain he'd grown so used to. Wrapping an arm around Ginny's waist, to hold her close, Harry fell straight into a deep, dreamless sleep.

x x x

The following morning, Harry woke up first. Without waking Ginny, he sat up and looked over to the three mattresses closest to him, and down at the sleeping girl beside him. He couldn't believe the amazing things these five, peaceful sleeping figures had done for, and with, him.

He looked over at Neville, who had stood up to the Carrows and their cruelty. Neville who had proved himself a hero, drawn the sword from the hat, and, exactly like Harry had instructed, killed the snake the first chance he got.

Sleeping on the mattress next to Neville, and oddly with her eyes open, was Luna. Luna who, along with Neville, had led a resistance against the Carrows, had survived imprisonment at Malfoy Manor, and had helped him solve the mystery of the diadem.

He looked at Hermione. She had always been at his side; always; even when it broke her heart by forcing her to part from Ron. She was sleeping with one arm out of the duvet, her hand holding that of her new boyfriend. He could see the scarred impression of the word "MUDBLOOD" upon her forearm, where it had been mercilessly carved by Bellatrix.

Harry looked at Ron. Ron, who had battled so bravely the night before. Ron, who had left his family behind without a second's thought, so as to aid Harry in his quest. Ron, who had confronted his fear in order to destroy a horcrux, and been clever enough to think of a way for Hermione to destroy another. Ron, who had been with Harry since his first day at Hogwarts, and Ron, who has lost a brother in the fight, yet remained standing to the very end.

Finally, Harry looked at Ginny. The girl who had loved him, waited for him, and fought for him. Harry couldn't believe how much one person could go through, and for her to still want to come back to him at the end.

He was about to lean down to give Ginny a gentle kiss, when Mr Weasley appeared at the bottom of the stairs leading to the dormitories. He looked tired, aged, and gravely saddened, and yet still greeted Harry with a warm smile.

'Harry,' he said softly, so as not to wake anyone else, 'will you come for a walk with me?'

'Sure,' Harry whispered back. 'One sec.' He felt around for his glasses, but found his wand first. He picked up his jeans, pointed the wand at the mud, and muttered 'Scourgify'. His jeans became clean and he pulled them on. He picked up his first shoe, and found were Ginny had left his glasses. He put them back on, and hastily pulled on his still-tied trainers. Mr Weasley led the way through the portrait hole and down into the grounds.

They walked in silence as they followed the path down to the lake. Harry could tell Mr Weasley was trying to select his words, and he had no intention of interrupting.

'I want to thank you, Harry,' Mr Weasley said after several minutes' silence. They came to a halt by the edge of the lake and turned to face each other.

'I should be thanking you, Mr Weasley,' Harry began, but he was cut off.

'Harry, you're of age, and, I think, after all these years, and all we've been through, it would be quite acceptable for you to call me "Arthur".' Mr Weasley's voice was rough, but he was doing his best to sound cheery. 'Besides, there really is no need to thank me; after all, you're the one who has just saved the wizarding world.' He paused, and smiled fondly at Harry. Then, Harry observed Mr Weasley's posture change, and an awkwardness overcome him. 'I... I understand it was Rookwood who killed Fred.' His voice quivered slightly as he spoke, but he managed to keep it under control.

'Yes,' Harry said quietly. He did not know what else to say. He feared there would be many conversations like this in the coming days.

'I see.' Again, Mr Weasley paused, and surveyed Harry for a moment, before continuing. 'Molly and I are hoping to have his funeral in two days time, at the Burrow. We've asked George his opinion, and he agrees that it would be a great honour if you would say a few words. Nothing too formal, Fred would've hated that. Just something...'

'Of course,' said Harry, firmly. 'Of course I will. It's the very least I can do.'

'Thank you, Harry.' Arthur smiled, and his posture reverted to its original, cheerier stance. 'I see Ginny took you back!' he said, with a small chuckle, as though there were never any doubt of this.

'Yes,' Harry smiled.

'I'm very happy for you two. The whole time we were at Muriel's, she never missed Potterwatch once. She was carrying the radio around with her for a few days, determined not to miss any news of you.'

'Really?'

'Oh yes, I've never known two young people care so much about each other. Well, except maybe Ron & Hermione. When did that finally happen, by the way?'

'Yesterday,' said Harry. He grinned as he thought about the two of them, wrapped up together in Gryffindor tower.

'About time, don't you think?'

'Oh, Mr Weasley, you have no idea.'

Mr Weasley smiled. 'Arthur, Harry. Call me Arthur.'

'Yes, sorry... Arthur.'

Mr Weasley smiled, and looked out over the lake. 'I'd like to think you know this already, Harry, but should you ever wish to, as the muggles say, "pop the question", I want you to know that you have my blessing.' He returned his gaze to Harry and patted him on the shoulder.

'Thank you, Mr Weas... I mean... Arthur,' said Harry, correcting himself. 'I'd like to think that day won't be far away.'

'Good,' said Mr Weasley, 'but don't tell Molly, or she'll be picking out curtains for the two of you faster than you can say "Dumbledore".'

They both laughed. Then Harry remembered something he needed to know the answer too.

'Arthur, what happened to Remus and Tonks?'

'Ah,' Mr Weasley looked saddened again. 'They both fought magnificently. Both of them took out a handful of death eaters each before… well.' He paused once more, and looked back out over the lake.

'It happened while Remus was duelling against Dolohov. Tonks had fought through a crowd of Death Eaters to check that Remus was ok, and had then managed to engage Bellatrix. They were firing spells at each other at a speed I've never seen before. It was truly something to behold. Across the room Yaxley was duelling with Luna and Dean Thomas; he'd cursed Dean to the floor and had turned his wand upon Luna. Tonks cast a shield charm to protect her but that was all the distraction Bellatrix needed, and she struck Tonks down with the killing curse.' Mr Weasley paused again, in order to clear the lump which had formed in his throat. Harry wiped a single tear from behind his glasses. 'As she fell,' Mr Weasley continued, 'Remus, well, he ran, he... he tried to catch her, but he'd turned his back on Dolohov...'

'Ok,' said Harry, cutting him off. He didn't want Mr Weasley to have to tell him anymore. 'Thank you for telling me.' Harry wiped his eyes on the sleeves of his T-shirt. 'I assume Andromeda will look after Teddy,' he asked.

'Yes, Kingsley went last night, in person, to tell her what had happened. We didn't want her to hear it by owl. Not after losing Ted as well. Obviously, she was devastated, but has to think about what's best for Teddy now. She's going to come up to the school today.'

Harry remained quiet for a few minutes. Mr Weasley sat down on the grass, and continued to look out at the lake. He gestured an invitation for Harry to do the same.

'I want to speak to Kingsley myself at some point today,' said Harry as he sat down. 'There are things to be discussed, to be decided. Not least, what we're to going to do with Voldemort's body.' Harry noticed that, for the first time in years, Mr Weasley didn't tremble at the name. Instead, he simply nodded his understanding.  
>They sat together in silence for another half hour, just looking out across the lake. In the very centre, the giant squid was splashing about, and leaping through the air. Apparently, not just wizards and centaurs were celebrating the victory.<p>

Harry opened the door to the great hall and was greeted by an almighty cheer. Mr Weasley patted him on the back, and walked ahead to join his wife at the Gryffindor table.

The four long tables had been replaced into their normal positions, and hundreds of people, both students and adults were sat having breakfast. As he moved through the hall, shaking various people's hands, Harry noticed that the enchanted ceiling was displaying a beautiful cloudless blue sky.

He sat down next to Ginny, opposite Ron & Hermione, and pulled a plate of sausages towards him. Ginny kissed his cheek and whispered in his ear 'Sleep well?'

'Unbelievably well,' he replied, his mouth half full of sausage, 'best I've had in months. Sorry I left this morning, your Dad wanted to talk.'

'That's ok; I expect there'll be a few times that happens over the next few days.' She smiled, as her boyfriend finished the second mouthful. Harry smiled back, leaned over and brushed her lips with his, before grabbing a fork, and scooping several fried eggs on to the plate in front of him.

Ginny rolled her eyes and grinned as Harry began his attempt to eat his weight in fried food. She turned back to Hermione.

'So,' she began, 'when did you two finally sort yourselves out?'

'Yesterday!' Hermione smiled.

'S'pout dime doo' Harry said, his mouth now full of bacon.

'Well, how did it happen?' Ginny asked Hermione. She patted Harry on the back, as he had started to cough having attempted to squeeze in one too many mushrooms.

'Girls," Ron sighed, with a wink to Harry, 'they always need the story, don't they?'

Having stopped choking, Harry grinned back and leaned across the table to pull the toast rack towards him.

'So?' Ginny urged, ignoring her brother's interruption.

'Ron stood up for elfish rights.' Hermione said dreamily, and Ron wrapped his arm round her shoulder.

'How romantic,' Ginny said sarcastically. 'They'll be telling that story down the ages.' Ron snorted his amusement, and Hermione smiled.

'Well, to be fair,' said Ron, 'I think that was just the final push we needed.'

Harry turned to look up at the teachers table. Professor McGonagall was sat in the Head teacher's chair, on her right sat Professor Flitwick and to her left sat Kingsley Shacklebolt.  
>Professor Slughorn was sat next to Professor Trelawney who had three crystal balls on the table in front of her. Harry suspected that these were the only three she had left, after smashing her others on the Death Eaters, and had refused to let them out of her sight. Professor Sprout had her arm in a cast, and on the end of the table sat Hagrid, in his large, magically reinforced chair, beaming down at Harry. They exchanged a little wave with each other, as Kingsley stood up at the front of the hall, and the room's occupants fell silent.<p>

'Today,' he began, 'marks the start of a new wizarding world. Voldemort has forever been defeated.' A few people still trembled as he said Voldemort's name, though many others cheered, however, the majority of the hall's residents remained perfectly still. Kingsley continued. 'The last few years have been difficult for many of us. Many have lost loved ones, many have suffered torture, and many have been forced to do things against their will. Finally, we're free from this tyranny. Those who we have lost shall be honoured; those who fought shall live in peace. But all, _all_, shall be remembered.

'Voldemort, at long last, has forever fallen, and we have one man we _must_ thank; one man, who has been through more than most of us. My friends, please raise your goblets in a toast, to Mr Harry Potter.'

'Harry Potter!' Everyone chorused, and the room erupted again in cheers. Ron grabbed Harry's arm and raised it into the air in celebration. Harry was embarrassed, but felt honoured nonetheless.

'Speech!' Ernie MacMillan called from the Hufflepuff table, and a few people laughed, others waited to see if Harry would say anything. Harry stood up and slowly walked to the front of the hall. He thought briefly of the last time he'd done so, when his name had unexpectedly been drawn from the Goblet of Fire the year that Voldemort had returned.

He reached the front, and stood next to Kingsley and looked out at the hundreds of faces now looking up at him. Harry was surprised he wasn't more nervous. 'Thank you all,' he began. 'I really mean it. Thank you. Many of you have stood by me for years, and all of you stood by me yesterday in battle. But there are two people who I would like to thank most. Two people have spent the last year with me, and stuck by me, even when times were tough, and without whom, I probably wouldn't be here today. Those two people are Ron Weasley & Hermione Granger.' There was more applause from the house tables for Ron and Hermione, who both went as red as Ron's hair, but looked pleased. 'Another toast,' declared Harry, 'to Ron and Hermione.'

'Ron and Hermione,' everyone chorused.

'Thank you all again.' Harry finished.

There was more applause, during which George shouted 'Merlin's beard, somebody stop him now before it turns into an acceptance speech!'

Everyone laughed at this, but Kingsley smiled. 'Well, now you mention it George…' He turned to Harry and withdrew a small box from inside his robes.

'Harry Potter, as acting Minister for Magic, I'm delighted to present you with the Order of Merlin, first class; just a small thank you from the Ministry.'

Harry's mouth fell open, as even more applause broke out, and Kingsley hung the medallion around Harry's neck. Kingsley whispered in Harry's ear 'the _very_ least we can do!'

'I need to speak to you later,' Harry whispered back, 'before you leave.' Kingsley nodded.

It soon became the longest breakfast Harry had ever experienced at Hogwarts. After glasses of fire whiskey and bottles of butterbeer had been passed around in celebration, and even more hugging and handshaking had occurred, Harry found himself sat in Hagrid's hut with Ginny, Ron, and Hermione, while Hagrid himself made tea.

'I've missed this,' said Hermione, filling a brief gap in the conversation.

'Yeah, I know what you mean,' Harry replied, 'We've not really had a chance lately just to sit around chatting, have we?'

'Well I'm jus' thankful that we've still got yeh 'ere 'Arry,' said Hagrid from the sideboard where he was dropping several dozen teabags into a large teapot. 'Wors' moment of me life were carryin' yeh outta the forest las' night; thinkin' yeh was dead.' He sniffed loudly, and blew his nose on his tablecloth-sized handkerchief. 'Still,' he said brightly, as he turned round to face them carrying a large plate of his infamous rock cakes. 'As it turns out, yeh were fine. I shudda known he couldn't kill yeh as easy as that.'

Harry grinned at Hagrid. 'I'm just a tough nut to crack,' he laughed. 'It's not as though Voldemort's going to get a chance for "third time lucky" is it?'

'Anyway,' said Ron, leaning forward, 'speaking of things that are hard to crack, rock cake anyone?'

'Ooh, yer cheeky little bugger,' said Hagrid.

The others fell about laughing, as Ron, feigning innocence, offered round the plate of cakes. Just as their laughter began to subside, there was a knock at the door.

Hagrid opened it, to find Kingsley stood on the door step.

'Sounds like this is where the party is,' said Kingsley. 'I could hear you all laughing all the way up at the castle.'

'Could you really?' asked Ginny.

'Rock cake, Minister?' said Ron, peering around Hagrid and offering the plate to Kingsley. Ginny and Hermione both sniggered, and covered their mouths with their hands to try and conceal their laughter.

'No, thank you Ron,' Kingsley replied. 'I've come to speak to Harry, actually.'

'Ah, good,' said Harry, pulling himself up out of his chair. He followed Kingsley out into what was left of Hagrid's pumpkin patch.

'How're you feeling?' asked Kingsley.

'Pretty good,' Harry replied. 'You?'

'Yes, excellent,' Kingsley agreed. 'You wanted to talk to me?'

'I did. First of all, what are we doing with Voldemort's body?'

'The Department of Magical Law Enforcement's standard practice is to cremate the body of any dark wizard killed by the Aurors during a mission. That seems most likely.'

Harry thought for a moment. 'Yes, that sounds sensible. What about the ashes?'

'Ordinarily, if the wizard in question has benign family members, the ashes are returned to them.'

'Is that what will happen with the Death Eaters bodies?'

'Yes, for the most part. However, as Voldemort has no living relatives, the ministry will have his remains scattered at sea.'

'At sea? Why at sea?'

'We wish to avoid putting them anywhere they can be found. We don't want to allow them to become a shrine for other dark wizards or surviving Death Eaters.'

Harry nodded. 'I've not seen the Prophet yet today; how far has the news travelled?'

'The battle was too late last night to make the morning edition, but I imagine tomorrow's paper will have it. Don't get me wrong though, people know. I hear that wizards and witches are celebrating in Trafalgar Square.'

'I bet that's quite a sight,' Harry chuckled.

'I know,' Kingsley sighed. 'Muggles everywhere; it'll take us weeks to wipe all of their memories. Anyway, I'd best be going, new job and all; was there anything else?'

'Yes actually,' said Harry, 'speaking of new jobs. I was wondering if there are any vacancies in the Aurors' department.'

Kingsley raised an eyebrow at Harry. 'After last night, I'm afraid to say there are several.'

'Oh,' said Harry, 'yes, of course. Sorry, I didn't mean...'

'Don't worry,' said Kingsley. 'I know what you meant. There's a post available for you whenever you're ready to take it.'

'Really?'

'Of course, Harry. From what I've seen, a few weeks of training and you'll be more than ready for field work.'

Harry thanked Kingsley, who held out his hand for a parting shake. As Kingsley strode off towards the front gates, Harry walked around the pumpkin patch and back into Hagrid's hut.

'What was that about?' asked Ron, as Harry closed the door behind him.

'Disposing of Voldemort's body,' Harry replied, 'also, when the Prophet will run the story, and then I asked about working in the Aurors' department.'

'The Aurors?' asked Hermione. 'Really? What did he say?'

'He said the job's mine when I want it.'

'And you're going to take it?' asked Ginny.

'Of course,' said Harry, 'I want to help with the fall out. Oh, hey, Hagrid, can I use your facilities?'

'Course,' said Hagrid. The four of them watched as Harry strode across the hut and disappeared into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. Ginny and Hermione glanced at each other, a worried look etched across both of their faces.

'Who's going to tell him?' Hermione asked, quietly.

'Tell him what?' asked Ron.

'That the war is over,' said Ginny. 'Who's going to tell him he can stop now?'


	2. Chapter 2: Reentry Issues

**Chapter 2 – Re-entry Issues**

The next fortnight was rough on the wizarding world, and perhaps even more so on Harry, Ginny, Ron and Hermione. After learning that the other three intended to go to all the funerals they could, Ginny had insisted that she would as well.

'Honestly Gin,' Harry had told her, 'there's no pressure on you to come. Fred's alone will be tough enough for all of us.'

'I know,' Ginny had replied, 'but I worry about you going alone.'

'I'm not going alone. Ron and Hermione have said they'll go with me.'

'Yes,' said Ginny, 'and they have each other. I don't want _you_ going alone. I'm coming, ok?'

After seeing that she had made up her mind, Harry had agreed to her accompanying him. He was glad of it too, as he quickly realised he couldn't have done it without her, standing beside him, holding his hand.

Harry had personally organised a small funeral for Snape, which, despite his best efforts, had not been well attended. He had written to the other Hogwarts House Heads, explaining what he had learned from Snape's memories during the battle. Therefore, he, Ron, Hermione and Ginny were joined at the funeral by Professors McGonagall, Flitwick, Sprout, and Slughorn. Also present were a handful of Slytherin students, all of whom were without any family ties to the Death Eaters. However, two other guests had also attended; Draco and Narcissa Malfoy. Their arrival had caused quite a stir, but Harry had insisted that they be allowed to stay. In all, seventeen people were present to mourn the late potions master. At the end of the ceremony, from either side of the room, Harry and Draco had exchanged a brief, parting nod, but they had not spoken.

After the first week, Harry realised that Ginny had been quite right; Ron and Hermione did indeed have each other for comfort. So much so, that, aside from at the funerals, Harry hadn't seen very much of them in daylight, and he only saw Ron briefly as they were going to bed.

'Leave them be,' said Ginny, when Harry had mentioned this one afternoon. 'They've just got together after the longest build up in all of history. Seriously, people are going to write songs about it. They need some time to figure out being together. Just let them be.'

They were back at the Burrow, which had become even more crowded than usual. Aside from the addition of Harry and Hermione, the return of Percy and Charlie had filled up all the rooms. But it was Fred's absence that had made the biggest impact on the Weasley household. The battle's bittersweet outcome for the family had cast sadness over the house that had once brought Harry so much joy.

Despite his best efforts to suppress the thought, Harry couldn't help but feel that he was partially responsible for Fred's death. Voldemort's words still haunted his dreams, "You have permitted your friends to die for you rather than face me yourself". If only he could've worked out Dumbledore's true plan sooner, destroyed the last horcruxes sooner, faced Voldemort sooner, then perhaps, just perhaps, Fred would have still been alive.

As there were so many funerals to be conducted, and a desire by many people within the wizarding community to attend several of them, the Ministry had been forced to stagger the dates. This was to prevent any mourners having to decide which of their friends' funerals they would attend, if a clash were to arise. The Weasleys had been asked if they would be willing for Fred's funeral to be one of the later ones, and they had agreed. Only the joint funeral for Lupin & Tonks was to be held later than Fred's.

Since the battle, Mrs Weasley had taken to filling her day with housework and cooking. The house was cleaner than it had ever been, and every meal time she had prepared far more food than the family could eat. Harry could tell that she was doing her best to keep busy; to keep her mind off Fred.

Not that she was letting on. She was making an effort to hold herself together, fussing over her children and house-guests, making sure they were looked after. Like her husband, Mrs Weasley had insisted that Harry ought to start calling her Molly, but for reasons he couldn't work out, he was finding this transition much tougher than with Mr Weasley. He had tried to call her Molly on several occasions, but each time it had felt uncomfortable; as though the name didn't fit on his tongue properly.

What with his desire to keep out from under Mrs Weasley's feet, and Ron and Hermione's absence, Harry was spending as much time outside as he could. He'd grown used to being outside during the previous year, and it seemed odd now to be cooped up indoors. Ginny would often join him, sitting together out in the orchard, talking and kissing, making up for months of lost time. Every so often, Harry would notice Ginny watching him, with a worried look on her face, as though she was expecting him to suddenly burst into flames.

'What's up?' he asked one day, having looked up from re-reading _Quidditch Through The Ages_, to catch her staring at him.

'Oh, nothing,' she'd replied, shifting her gaze to pretend she hadn't been observing him. 'Just lost in my thoughts.'

'What about?'

'How much I love you.' They'd watched Crookshanks for a moment, as he chased a gnome across the flowerbeds and under the garden fence. Harry had sensed that she wasn't telling the truth, but elected not to press the matter.

'Ah,' he'd replied, putting on a smile. 'Excellent.'

It was now the morning of Fred's funeral. The sky was clear, the sun was shining, and birds were singing in the trees. As he got dressed into new black dress robes, Harry couldn't help feeling that the weather seemed entirely wrong for the occasion. He walked down the stairs from Ron's room on the fifth floor, and knocked on Ginny's door when he reached the first.

'Come in,' said Ginny's voice from the other side. He entered. Hermione was sat on the edge of her camp bed, fastening her shoes. She was wearing a black dress and a matching hair band. Ginny too was wearing a black dress, but she had tied her hair back into a simple, elegant pony tail.

'Morning,' said Harry.

'Morning,' said Hermione, 'Is Ron awake?'

'Just tying his shoe laces.'

'Ok. I'll meet you in the kitchen in a bit.' Harry stood aside to let her pass, and she disappeared up the stairs to find Ron.

'Can you zip me up?' asked Ginny. She turned around to reveal that the back of her dress was still open.

'Er, yeah,' Harry replied, stepping towards her. The door swung shut, and Harry jumped slightly as the latch clicked.

'You ok?' asked Ginny.

'Yes,' said Harry, not sounding fully convinced. Ginny looked over her shoulder at him.

'Harry Potter, are you nervous because my dress is open?'

'No,' he lied.

'You are? Wow, the things you've seen and the things you've done, yet you still get nervous over me!'

'I'm not, look.' He fumbled the zip slightly, but managed to do it up without too much bother. 'There.'

She turned around to face him, smiling. 'Honestly, Harry,' she said, 'if you're like this now, what will you be like when I _am_ undressed?'

Harry was slightly dumbstruck by her bravado, but it didn't matter, as at that same moment, the door swung open.

'Whose undressed?' asked George, striding into the room without waiting for permission. 'Better not be you two; Mum'll have a fit.'

'No-one's undressed,' said Harry, a little too quickly. 'Everyone's dressed in here, see?'

George grinned. 'Aaaaand breathe, Harry,' he said, 'honestly mate, not good for you to hold all that anxiety inside. Nudity's a part of life, my friend. I for one, have a particularly excellent...'

'Breakfast's ready!' Mrs Weasley shouted up the stairs. 'George! Ginny! Harry!'

'Coming Mum,' Ginny called back. She turned to George. 'Shush, you.'

George smirked and opened the door, waving Harry and Ginny through it before following behind them.

They arrived in the kitchen, which was already filled with people. Mr Weasley was sat at the head of the table while Mrs Weasley bustled about the kitchen with various frying pans. In the sink, the scrubbing brush was doing the washing up by itself as the plates lifted themselves in and out of the water. Also seated around the table were Bill, Fleur, Charlie, Ron, Hermione, Percy, and a girl Harry didn't recognise.

'Ah, morning you three,' said Mrs Weasley, seeing that Harry, Ginny and George had entered the room. 'Sit down, have some breakfast; Charlie, move up, make some room.'

'Morning Harry,' said Percy. 'Have you met my fiancée? Audrey Pritchard.'

'Don't think I have,' Harry replied, reaching across the table to shake her hand.

'A pleasure,' said Audrey. She had a cut-glass accent, and was extraordinarily well groomed. Harry immediately understood why Percy was attracted to her. She was exactly his type.

'How long have you been together?' Hermione asked, leaning forward so she could see down to Audrey at the end of the table.

'About six months,' said Audrey.

'Five months, and seventeen days,' said Percy.

'But who's counting?' asked George. A snigger came from around the table, and to Harry's surprise, even Audrey smiled.

'Where did you meet?' Hermione asked.

'Oh, I work at the ministry too,' said Audrey.

'In the Department of Magical Transportation, to be exact,' Percy added.

'Well I must say, Perce,' said George, 'it's good to see she's loosened you up a bit.' This was met with a second snigger from the other diners. Percy scowled, but Audrey gave him a reassuring pat on the back.

'What time are people getting here, Mum?' Ginny asked.

'Hmmm?' said Mrs Weasley. She was staring out the window, not really listening to the conversation. 'Oh, soon, I expect.'

'Molly,' said Mr Weasley, 'go and have a sit down before everyone arrives. I'll see to the dishes.'

'No no, don't be silly Arthur, I can...'

'Molly,' Mr Weasley repeated, softening his voice, 'give yourself five minutes.'

She turned to look at him. For a few seconds, they stared at each other, and then, without warning, Mrs Weasley burst into tears.

She dashed out into the garden, hiding her face with her hands. As she left, the few remaining plates that were still cleaning themselves in the sink dropped to the floor and smashed on the tile. Mr Weasley, got up, and followed her to the door.

'Bill,' he said, gesturing towards the broken plates, 'could you...'

'Yeah, I've got them.'

Mr Weasley disappeared outside to comfort his wife, as Bill withdrew his wand, and flicked it towards the fragmented crockery. The pieces rejoined, and then stacked themselves on the sideboard.

The others finished their breakfast in an uncomfortable silence, none of them sure how to break it. Shortly after they'd tidied away, people started arriving for the funeral.

Lee Jordan, Alicia Spinnet, Angelina Johnson, and Katie Bell arrived together, followed not long after by Oliver Wood, Hagrid, and several other members of the Dumbledore's Army. Members of the Order arrived next including Kingsley, Professor McGonagall, and Aberforth Dumbledore. Last to arrive were Neville, Luna, Hannah Abbot, and Aunt Muriel.

They filed into mismatched chairs that been set out at the end of the garden. Harry was sitting at the end of the second row, with Ginny, silently weeping, beside him. Beside her was Ron and Hermione, tears also streaming down both of their faces. In front of them were Mr and Mrs Weasley, and two empty seats. Harry could not see their faces, but he could see that Mr and Mrs Weasley were firmly holding each other's hands, and he was certain that she was sobbing into her handkerchief.

From nowhere, music carried through the garden, as though it were being hummed by the apple trees over in the orchard. Harry thought for a moment, as he tried to remember where he had heard it before, and then realised that it was the same funeral march to which Fred and George had sung the school song on Harry's first night at Hogwarts. He smiled, remembering the ridiculousness of Dumbledore conducting the last few lines.

The casket was carried up the aisle by George, Lee, Bill and Charlie; the two eldest brothers were both in tears, and Lee appeared to have just stopped crying moments before. George however, to Harry's surprise, seemed to be holding his emotions together; his face almost entirely void of sadness. They placed the coffin upon the empty table that awaited them at the front, and took their seats. George and Bill sat down in the vacant chairs beside their parents. Standing beside the table was the same tufty-haired wizard that had presided over Dumbledore's funeral a little under a year earlier. He started to address the mourners, talking about Fred's life. As Harry sat listening to him, he couldn't help but feel like he was back at Hogwarts, sitting at the edge of the lake, listening to Fawkes' mournful phoenix-song.

'And now,' said the tufty-haired wizard, 'the family have asked Mr Potter to say a few words about Fred.'

Harry took a deep breath, and walked up to stand beside Fred's coffin. It seemed unnaturally plain for someone who had been so full of character. From the front, he could now see Mr & Mrs Weasley, hands held tight, both with silent tears falling across their cheeks. In stark contrast, George, was smiling at Harry, a look of encouragement in his eyes.

'I was eleven when I first met Fred,' Harry began. 'It was at King's Cross, just by the barrier to platform nine and three quarters, and he was trying to confuse his mother into thinking he was George. And not for the first time, I'm sure.' He looked down to see Mrs Weasley smile at the memory.

'Over the years,' he continued, 'I got to know Fred, as I have the whole Weasley family. Fred was my friend, my Quidditch team mate, and my brother... or at least, as good as.

'He and George have brought me many laughs when I've needed them, and through _Weasley's Wizard Wheezes_, have brought them to many others as well. Definitely the best investment I've ever made.'

'Ohhhhhh,' said Ron, 'so that's how they could afford to set it up.' This ignited another small spark of laughter in the congregation.

Harry continued. 'It is with great sadness...' He paused for a moment to clear the lump that had built up in his throat. 'It is with great sadness that I think of Fred's death, but he's not gone.

'Anyone who ever laughed at one of his jokes, anyone who ever got hit by a bludger from his bat, and anyone who's ever confused him for George...'

'So, pretty much everyone we've met?' George interrupted, laughing.

'Yes,' Harry agreed, 'all of us. We'll all carry Fred with us; that's how he'll live on.'

'Hear hear,' said Percy.

'To Fred,' said Harry. 'May he rest in peace.'

x x x

It was late in the evening, and the living room at the Burrow was full. Following Fred's service in the morning, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Bill, and Mr Weasley had taken a portkey over to the Tonks' residence for the joint funeral for Remus and Tonks. Mrs Weasley had decided that she couldn't cope with another funeral that day, and she had remained behind with Charlie, Percy, Audrey, Fleur and George for company.

They were joined at the Tonks House by the rest of the Order, many of the Hogwarts teachers, and some of Tonks' old school friends that Harry didn't know. The funeral itself, much like Fred's, had been incredibly emotional. Andromeda had sobbed throughout, and although little Teddy was mostly oblivious to what was going on; his hair colour had become a sombre jet-black to match his Godfather's.

Having not wanted to leave Andromeda on her own, Mr Weasley had invited her, Teddy and Kingsley back to the Burrow. Now, all but one of the Weasleys, Harry, Audrey, Kingsley, Andromeda and Teddy were all sitting together, drinking tea from Mrs Weasley's magical bottomless teapot. Ron and Hermione had been sat talking in the garden for a little over an hour, but no-one had wanted to disturb them, assuming they needed time to themselves after the emotions of the day.

Ginny offered round the plate of biscuits, using it as an excuse to change seats and sit next to Harry. She nestled into the gap between him and the arm of the sofa, and rested her head against his shoulder. She'd already changed out of her dress and put on her pyjamas. Having rolled up his shirt sleeves, Harry could feel the soft cotton of her dressing gown against his skin. He was surprised by just how much of a comfort it was.

'Don't worry about coming into work tomorrow, Arthur,' said Kingsley across the room. 'Think a day doing nothing with the family would be good for all of you.'

'Are you sure?' said Mr Weasley. 'I'd imagine there's a stack of paper work on my desk by now.'

'Don't worry; I'll have someone sort it. Anything that needs your eye can wait a day.'

Andromeda stood up, with Teddy in her arms. 'Molly,' she said, 'could I use your bathroom please?'

'Yes, of course dear,' Mrs Weasley replied, 'up the stairs, third floor.'

'Thanks. Harry, could you hold Teddy for me?'

'Oh, yeah,' he replied. 'Sure.'

From Andromeda's arms, Teddy was using his new height to look around the room. Despite the late hour, he was still awake, and trying to take in all the details of the Burrow with great interest. His eyes settled on Harry, and he smiled. With a scrunch of his face, he transformed his crop of light blue hair to jet-black, just as it had been for the funeral.

'Awwww,' said Ginny, 'he's copying you, Harry.'

Harry held out his arms, and accepted the child, slightly awkwardly, from its Grandmother. He rested Teddy against his chest, supported his legs with one arm, and his back with the other. Teddy, like Ginny, very quickly found the most comfortable position on Harry's shoulder, and settled himself in for a nap.

'Awwww,' Ginny repeated.

'You're a natural, Harry,' said Mrs Weasley.

Harry smiled, and Andromeda headed off up the stairs.

Ron and Hermione came in from the garden. Hermione had clearly been crying, and she was grasping on to Ron's hand very tightly.

'We need your help,' said Ron, to no-one in particular.

'What is it?' asked Harry. 'What's wrong?'

'It's my...' sobbed Hermione, 'it's my parents. I can't find them.'

'What?'

'We've been trying to track them down for a few days,' said Ron. 'After Hermione wiped their memories, they moved to Australia. We think they're still down there, only...'

'...Only they've moved house,' said Hermione. 'They're not where they're supposed to be.'

'Merlin's beard!' said Mr Weasley.

'We went down there by portkey last week,' Ron continued, 'but the neighbours said they'd moved about six months ago.'

'Did they leave a...' Ginny began.

'No,' said Ron, cutting her off. 'No forwarding address.'

'Can you help me find them?' asked Hermione, again, to no-one in particular. 'There's not much to go on, because, well, they don't remember who I am.' She sobbed again, and Ron put a comforting arm around her shoulder.

Harry got to his feet, being careful not to wake Teddy. 'Of course, we'll help,' said Harry. 'The ministry must have someone who can track them down, right Kingsley?' His speech was starting to gather pace now, as though it had been spurred on by seeing Hermione's tears. He could feel the determination to help growing within him. 'And if not, well, maybe we can all go down there and help you find them. There must be a spell that can help us to locate them, or someone who knows where they moved to. Perhaps someone lent them a removal van?'

'A what?' asked Mr Weasley, excitedly.

'Not the time, dear,' said Mrs Weasley.

'Is any of that possible?' Harry continued, turning to Kingsley for reassurance. But it was not Kingsley who spoke. Instead, it was Ginny.

'Mum,' she said quite firmly. 'Could you...?'

Mrs Weasley nodded, and turned to Ron and Hermione. 'Sweetheart, of course we'll help you find them, I'm sure the ministry can make light work of it. But for now, can you all give me a moment alone with Harry please.'

Harry didn't understand. He looked around the room, and was surprised to see everyone looking at him with concern on their faces, including Ron and Hermione.

'Here,' said Ginny, standing up, 'I'll take Teddy.' She carefully took the baby out of his arms, and rested him against her without waking him up. She led Kingsley and the rest of the family out into the kitchen. Only Harry and Mrs Weasley remained.

She had a sympathetic look on her face that he'd only previously seen once before in the hospital wing at Hogwarts, the night Cedric Diggory died. She moved on to the sofa, and patted the cushion beside her.

'Sit down, Harry,' she said softly. He did as he was told.

'What's up?' he asked.

'We've been growing increasingly concerned over the last fortnight.'

'Who has?'

'All of us.'

'What about?'

'About you, dear.'

'Me?'

'Yes.'

'I'm fine. Don't worry about me.'

'No Harry, you're not fine. In fact, myself, Arthur, Ginny, Ron, Hermione, Kingsley; all of us; we don't think you've been fine for a while now.'

'I'm telling you, I'm ok.'

'Harry, Fred's death wasn't your fault. Neither was Tonks', nor Remus', nor anyone else's.'

Harry stared at her. He didn't know what to say. They sat in silence for a moment.

'It is,' he said quietly. He felt the tears well up in his eyes as he said it. He felt like he'd just been hit in the stomach by a bludger.

'It's not, Harry. It's not.'

'Yes it is,' he said. 'If I'd gone to face him sooner. If I'd have just worked it out sooner... I... I could've...' He broke off as the tears started to roll down his cheeks. He couldn't bear to look her in the eye. Not today. Not on the same day as Fred's funeral. He looked away and stared into the fireplace.

'Harry,' she repeated. 'It wasn't your fault. Facing him sooner wouldn't have changed things. Good people would've still died. It was war.'

'Not as many,' he said, looking back towards her, though still not meeting her eyes. 'Perhaps not Fred; not Remus; not Tonks...'

'Perhaps,' said Mrs Weasley. 'But their deaths are not your fault. They're his fault. They're Voldemort's fault, Harry. Not yours.' He was surprised to hear her use the name, and unlike when Mr Weasley had done so by the lake, her voice didn't tremble. 'If it wasn't for you,' she continued, 'a lot more people would have died.' He returned his gaze to meet hers.

'I just... I wish I didn't feel like this,' he said, quietly.

'I know,' she said. 'It's grief, Harry. You've just got to give yourself time. You've spent so long trying to look after the rest of us, but now, you need to stop. It's not up to you to do that anymore. Voldemort's gone and he's never coming back. Look after yourself now. Why not go away for a few weeks?'

'Where would I go?'

'Anywhere; take Ginny with you if you like. Just give yourself some time.'

'I'm supposed to start work with the Aurors.'

'I'm sure Kingsley will let you start in a month or so.'

There was another long pause as Harry replayed her words in his head. He let out a long, calming breath. He really could stop. Hearing Mrs Weasley say so was like winning the Quidditch Cup. More tears fell from beneath his glasses, and before he knew it, Mrs Weasley had pulled him into a tight hug. He cried into her shoulder a few minutes. Not tears of sorrow anymore, but tears of relief.

'Just take your time,' she said, eventually. 'Then get back to your life.'

'I'll try,' said Harry, straightening up and wiping away the tears. 'Thanks... Molly.'

Mrs Weasley smiled. 'That's quite ok, dear.'


	3. Chapter 3: Moving Day

**Chapter 3 – ****Moving Day**

As June arrived, the sun came with it to Ottery St. Catchpole. However, there were very few people left at the Burrow to enjoy it.

Finding Hermione's parents had taken a matter of days after Kingsley had asked the Department of International Magical Co-Operation to get involved. Having found them living safe and sound in Adelaide, the Ministry's team of obliviators had reversed Hermione's memory charm, and the family had returned to England. There had been an initial argument between Mr and Mrs Granger and their daughter, over whether or not she had the right to tamper with their memories, but eventually, Hermione had convinced them that she'd done the right thing. She had now gone to stay with them for a few days to spend time together as a family, and to introduce them to Ron, who had gone too.

Percy and Audrey had returned to their flat in London the day after Fred's funeral as they had to go back to work. Dolores Umbridge had been arrested on suspicion of collaboration with Death Eaters and the wrongful imprisonment of muggle-borns, and consequently, Kingsley had promoted Percy to be his new Senior Undersecretary.

'Bloody hell, Perce,' George had said when he heard the news. 'Even _I_ think you'll be better than Umbridge.'

'Yeah,' Ron had agreed, 'don't make Harry scar himself, and you'll be on to a winner.'

The day after Percy left, Charlie had returned to Romania, having also been promoted as the new Head Keeper and Research Director at the Dragon Reserve. Three days after that, Bill and Fleur had returned to Shell Cottage.

George had decided to stay at the Burrow for a few weeks, and make the daily commute into Diagon Alley via the floo network.

'I'll tell you what,' he declared one night, 'now that all the others are reopening, the shop's sales have shot through the roof. If this keeps up, I'll have to buy Gringotts just so I've got somewhere to put all the gold.'

Diagon Alley itself was indeed returning to its former glory. The Leaky Cauldron was full of customers once again, Ollivander's had re-opened, and Mr Weasley's office had closed down all the shops in Knockturn Alley, and seized their merchandise. The only building on the Alley that hadn't been returned to its original state was Gringotts.

News of Harry, Ron and Hermione's break-in had spread through the Wizarding community like fiendfyre. As such, the goblins had refused to allow any wizards, including Gringotts' employees like Bill, to be involved in the rebuilding, for fear that they would blab about the new security measures. However, this did mean that it was taking the goblins a long time to complete the work.

However, as far as Harry was concerned, it was not the rebuilding work that was causing problems. Two days before he and Ginny had gone away, he'd learned from Bill that the goblins had given him a life time ban from the bank, and he would have to have a trustee represent him each time he needed money.

'You're joking,' said Harry, as Bill threw him a bag of galleons.

'I'm afraid not,' Bill replied.

'They do realise I didn't steal any gold, don't they?'

'Yeah, I'm sure they do, but it's the principle of the break-in they're annoyed about. No-one's meant to be able to do it, and if they do, they certainly shouldn't make it back out. You did, and so they don't want you in the building.'

'Have they banned Ron and Hermione too?'

'No,' Bill sighed, 'just you.' Harry's mouth remained open for a moment as he tried to find the words he needed. 'Don't worry,' Bill added, 'I'm working on it.'

It was now the last week of June, and as they arrived back at the Burrow, Harry and Ginny were surprised by just how quiet it was.

'Wow,' said Ginny as they walked up the garden path, each dragging a trunk behind them. 'I've not seen it this quiet here since the year before I started Hogwarts.'

They arrived at the Kitchen door, and walked in. They could hear the radio on in the background, and the soft whirring of the Weasley family clock. The clock itself looked different, and Harry strolled over to inspect it. He looked at the face, and was surprised to notice that three new hands had been added, inscribed with the names "Fleur", "Harry", and "Hermione". He smiled, and turned back to Ginny.

'You seen this?'

'Mum did it a few months ago. Have you only just noticed?'

'Yeah. Guess I'm an official Weasley now.'

Ginny grinned and walked into the living room. 'Mum!' she called. 'We're back!'

Harry heard Mrs Weasley's footsteps on the floor above, and then she appeared at the top of the stairs.

'Somebody there?' she shouted, heading down the steps.

'It's us, Molly,' Harry replied.

'Oh, is she upstairs?' said Ginny, returning to the kitchen.

'Ginny! Harry!' said Mrs Weasley, reaching the bottom step. 'I wasn't expecting you until dinner time; did you get back alright?' She pulled them into a hug, and kissed them both on the cheek.

'Yes, fine,' said Harry.

'International floo network, was it?'

'Yes.'

'Where did you go in the end?'

'Porto,' said Ginny.

'Oh how lovely,' said Mrs Weasley, now fussing with the kettle. 'Your father and I nearly went to Portugal once, but then we found out we were having Bill and I wasn't allowed to travel by fireplace.

'Where is everyone, Mum?' Ginny asked.

'Work mostly, though Ron and Hermione are supposed to be coming back from her parents' tonight for dinner.'

'Oh, good,' said Harry, 'we got your owl to say they'd found them.'

'That reminds me, dear,' said Mrs Weasley, turning from the kettle to Harry, 'there's something that belongs to you in the other room.'

'Really?' Harry walked around the kitchen table and into the living room, where his mouth fell open. Standing in the corner, and leaning against the wall, was his Firebolt.

'Arthur brought it home yesterday,' said Mrs Weasley, having followed him into the lounge.

'How?' asked Harry.

'It was recovered by the Ministry about thirty miles from Little Whinging a week or so after you lost it.'

'That was almost a year ago,' he said, inspecting it. 'Why have I only just got it back?'

'Well, they didn't know who it belonged too, and you hadn't reported it missing. It's been sat in the lost property office at the Ministry ever since. Arthur went in there by chance last week, realised it was yours, and filed the paperwork to have it released to him.'

'Cool,' said Harry, he picked it up and glanced at Ginny. She smiled.

'No, we've only just got back.'

'Awwww,' said Harry, playfully.

'You two can go and have a fly in the orchard if you like,' said Mrs Weasley, 'I've just got to finish making the beds and then I was going to start dinner.'

'You sure, Molly?' asked Harry.

'Yes, by all means, though if you'd like to help set the table in about half an hour, that would be lovely.'

Harry looked back at Ginny. She rolled her eyes and smiled. 'I'll go and change,' she said. She withdrew her wand, pointed it at her trunk and levitated it up the stairs.

'When did you learn to do non-verbal spells?' Harry called after her.

'Oh, Harry,' she called back, 'there's a lot you don't know about me.'

'No, there isn't,' Mrs Weasley whispered when Ginny was out of earshot. 'Arthur taught her while we were at Muriel's.'

Harry and Ginny played in the orchard for half an hour, throwing a quaffle back and forth in what was left of the evening's sun. Though when they eventually stopped playing, it wasn't because Mrs Weasley called them in to help with the food, but because Ron appeared waving a letter in his hand.

'How was your trip?' he asked, as Harry and Ginny landed beside him.

'Good thanks,' said Harry. 'How was it at Hermione's?'

Ron looked over his shoulder to check Hermione wasn't nearby. 'Bit dull to be honest,' he whispered. 'Nothing in their house runs on magic; Dad would've loved it. Although, that muggle television thing is a good idea.'

'So what's the letter about?' asked Ginny.

'Oh yeah,' said Ron, handing it to Harry. 'This mate, is my finest hour.'

Harry removed the letter from its envelope and read aloud.

_Dear Mr Weasley,_

_The Chocolate Frog Company is delighted to inform you that in October we will be launching one of our famous witch/wizard cards depicting you. _

_As I'm sure you're aware, our cards highlight the key achievements of their focus witch/wizard. Therefore, should any of your future accomplishments be considered noteworthy, they will be added to your card at a later date._

_Please find the very first edition__ of said card enclosed within for your collection._

_Best wishes,_

_Miranda __Buttersworth_

_The __Chocolate Frog Company  
><em>

Harry looked up and grinned. 'You're joking,' he said.

'Nope,' said Ron proudly. 'I'm telling you Harry; my _finest_ hour.'

'Where is it then?' asked Ginny.

Ron held out the card for Ginny to read. She took it from him, and his face smiled up at her. She flipped it over to read the back.

_RON WEASLEY:_

_Famous__ for aiding __Harry Potter and Hermione Granger __in destroying the __seven __horcruxes that led to the subsequent defeat of He Who Must Not Be Named._

'Wait,' said Harry, re-reading Ron's letter, 'they get updated? Do they all change together?'

'Yeah,' said Ron. 'My one of Dumbledore's changed a few times since I first got it. Yours changed about a month ago, too.'

'How do they do that?'

'A Protean charm, I expect,' said Hermione, strolling through the orchard's gate, also clutching an envelope. 'Same spell that I used on the D.A. coins. I take it you've told them already, Ron?'

'You got one too?' said Harry, clocking Hermione's letter.

'Yeah,' she replied.

'What does yours say?'

'Same as Ron's, only with the names reversed.'

'You don't seem as excited as he does,' Ginny smirked.

'Look, I'm sure it's an honour,' said Hermione, holding hers up to inspect it. 'I mean, Dumbledore, Merlin and Harry all have one, after all; but I've never really collected them, so I'm not that bothered.'

Ron rolled his eyes. 'I've been telling her she's mad for two days,' he said; 'can't talk any sense into her.'

'Probably a good job,' Harry grinned, 'if you did, she'd never snog you.'

Hermione and Ginny both snorted, and tried to hide their laughter from Ron, as he scowled. 'Mum says to help with the dinner, by the way.'

'You two go ahead,' said Hermione, looking to Ron and Ginny, 'we'll be there in a minute.'

Ron and Ginny nodded, walked out of the orchard, and back towards the kitchen door. Hermione turned back to Harry.

'How was the trip?' she asked.

'It was good thanks,' he replied. 'Nice and relaxing.'

'And how are you?'

'Fine thanks.'

'No, I mean...'

'I'm fine, Hermione. Really.'

'Really?'

'Really.'

She smiled, and pulled him into a hug. 'I missed you, y'know,' she said.

'I missed you too. Weird not seeing you both for a month.'

'You'll have to get used to it for longer than that soon.'

'Why?' They released each other from their hug.

'When Hogwarts re-opens.'

'You're going back?'

'Yes, we can't all walk straight into our dream job, Harry.'

He laughed. 'As if you couldn't; Kingsley would give you any job you asked for.'

'Perhaps, but it's still good to have N.E.W.T.s to fall back on.'

Harry rolled his eyes. 'If you say so.'

They strolled towards the orchard's gate. 'So,' said Hermione, 'anything to report with you and Gin?'

'What do you...?' Harry frowned for a moment, before he realised what she meant. 'Oh!'

'Yeah.'

'You mean...?'

'I do.'

'Oh, no, nothing. Almost, once, but we decided to wait for a bit. Why? Did you and Ron?'

'No no,' she said, a little flustered. 'We came close too; a couple of times actually, but no. Not yet.'

They looked at each other for a moment, and laughed. 'Bet you didn't think you'd be saying that a year ago,' said Harry.

'A year ago?' said Hermione. 'I didn't think I'd be saying it two _months_ ago.'

x x x

The following morning, Harry was woken by Mrs Weasley telling him that Kingsley wanted to speak to him.

'He's here?' said Harry, confused in his sleepy state.

'No dear, he's in the fire place.'

'Isn't that very hot?'

'Pardon?'

'Oh, you mean on the floo network, don't you,' he said, shaking himself awake.

'I do, dear,' she smiled. 'Get dressed and come down quickly.'

Harry got out of bed and pulled on his clothes from the previous night. He hadn't unpacked from the holiday yet, so they were all he had to hand. As there were only seven of them in the house, for the first time in all of his trips to the Burrow, Harry had a room to himself. It was slightly odd, having grown used to sleeping next to Ginny on holiday, but it was also nice not to listen to Ron's snoring. It was, however, Percy's room, meaning it was alarmingly tidy, and lacked any of the personalisation that Ron and Ginny's rooms had.

With some parts of his body still asleep, Harry staggered his way into the kitchen where he was handed a bacon sandwich by Mrs Weasley and pointed towards the fire. Kingsley's head was floating in the flames.

'Ah, Harry,' he said, brightly, 'how was Portugal?'

'Sunny,' Harry replied. 'How're things at the ministry?'

'Busy,' Kingsley replied. 'The Wizengamot's barely been out of session all week.'

'Death Eater trials?'

'Yes, though not as bad as it was seventeen years ago. The advantage with Voldemort having actually seized control this time is that all of his supporters were openly bragging about it.'

'So we know who they all are?'

'Mostly; a few are claiming to have been under the Imperius curse, but they're usually lying.'

Harry smiled. 'So when do you want me at work?'

'How's tomorrow morning?'

'Great.'

'Have you got a place to live yet?'

'I'm still crashing at the Burrow, at the moment. Guess I can't stay here forever though.'

'Grimmauld place?'

'It's a bit...'

'Grotty?' Mrs Weasley suggested.

'Yes, that.'

'We can fix it up if you like,' said Kingsley.

'Can you? We spent about a month trying to clean it before my fifth year.'

'With magic?'

'No.'

'Molly? Can we have another go at it?'

'Yes, though there's still that portrait of Sirius's mother,' she replied. 'We couldn't get that off; probably held on with a permanent sticking charm.'

'I'll have someone from the Department of Mysteries go over and remove it.'

'And there are those curses Alastor set up after Albus died.'

'I'll have someone take care of them too.'

'Wait,' said Harry, surprised by how quickly this was happening, 'am I moving to London tomorrow?'

'Would make the commute easier,' Kingsley reasoned.

'And the house _is_ just sitting there, Harry,' said Mrs Weasley.

He thought for a moment. 'Guess I'm moving then. Where do I go in the morning, Minister?'

'Report to the Atrium, and I'll have someone meet you.'

'No, I meant should I floo in or take the visitor's entrance, or, are you still using those public toilets?'

Kingsley laughed. 'No, the toilets are gone now. The floo will be fine. I believe Grimmauld Place is still attached to the network.'

'Ok, I'll do that then. Anything else, boss?'

Kingsley laughed again. 'Yes, just call me by my name, Harry. I'm still only acting-Minister after all.'

Harry grinned. 'Anything you want, boss.'

'Harry my friend, you're going to fit right in. Molly, I'll probably see you all this afternoon.'

'Yes, indeed Minister.'

Kingsley's head disappeared from the fireplace, and Harry turned to Mrs Weasley.

'Guess I should shower then,' he said, 'sounds like we're going to London.'

'I'll wake the others up,' said Mrs Weasley. 'It's a shame Hermione and Ginny's booklists haven't arrived. We could've sent them over to Diagon Alley while we were there.'

The first challenge of the day was persuading Ron that cleaning was a good enough reason to get out of bed.

'Why on earth would I do that?' he mumbled, his head buried beneath his pillow.

'Because,' said Mrs Weasley, flicking her wand at the duvet and making it stick to the ceiling, 'Harry needs somewhere to live, and Grimmauld Place needs a lot of work to make it nice.'

Ron sat bolt upright in the bed. 'Wait, Harry's moving out?'

'Well, officially he never moved in here,' she replied, 'but yes.'

'He can't live in Grimmauld Place with it in that state.'

'Yes, I know. Now, get. Out. Of. Bed.'

Half an hour later, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Mrs Weasley were standing in Grimmauld Place, looking up from the pavement at number twelve. Muggles were walking past them, clearly oblivious to their presence. One muggle walked right past Harry, and as he did so, shivered, and let out a short, depressed sigh.

'Did you see that?' said Harry.

'See what?' asked Hermione.

'That man, he... Never mind.'

'Are we going in then?' asked Ron. Harry was stood slightly in front of the others, not moving. He hadn't been back since they infiltrated the Ministry.

'Yeah,' said Harry, 'I'm just worried about what state Yaxley left it in.'

'Yaxley?' asked Mrs Weasley. 'When was he here?'

'We accidentally apparated him here,' said Hermione, 'after the whole ministry incident.'

'I see,' said Mrs Weasley, reaching into her robes. 'Wands out then, I think.'

'I'll go first,' said Harry. 'It is _my_ house.'

'Ok, start with a shield charm, and if that doesn't work, we're right behind you.'

Harry stepped up to the door, tapped it with his wand, and waited as they listened to the series of clicks and jangles as the locks and chains removed themselves on the other side of the door. It swung open with a loud creak, and they stepped inside together. It was colder inside than Harry had expected; presumably because Kreacher hadn't been there to light the fires. The lights flickered into being along the walls. Ginny took another step forward.

'_Severus Snape?'_

Ginny and Mrs Weasley gagged for a moment, as the Tongue-Tying curse took it's affect on them. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were quite glad to have already been subject to it.

At the opposite end of the hall, a figure started to form from the dust in the carpet.

'We didn't kill you, Albus,' said Harry, loudly. The half-formed dust-Dumbledore exploded in a cloud, and sank back into the carpet. 'Well, that's Mad-eye's enchantments sorted.'

'I don't care for that tongue thing,' said Ginny.

'Kingsley'll have it removed,' said Mrs Weasley, 'along with the Dumbledore dust-ghost, I hope.'

They moved down the corridor, all the doors were locked shut.

'That's odd,' said Hermione, trying the door to the dining room. 'Should I open it?'

'Yeah,' said Harry, 'you unlock it; Ron and I will go in. If anything comes out, be ready for it.'

'Ok, ready?'

'Yeah,' said Harry and Ron together, raising their wands.

Hermione pointed hers at the lock. 'Alohamora,' she muttered. There was a click, and she pushed the door open.

The cold hit them so suddenly it was as though they'd just apparated to the North Pole. Harry felt his stomach squirm as he saw what was inside.

'DEMENTORS!' he shouted. There were at least ten of them, and they turned together to face Harry and Ron, swooping down towards them. Harry thought of the beach in Porto with Ginny lying on a towel beside him, smiling. 'EXPECTO PATRONUM!'

The stag erupted from his wand, and stood guard in front of them both.

'GET BACK!' Ron shouted, as the three women tried to follow them in. 'We'll have to force them out into the hall. Stand to the side.'

'Hermione, cast your Patronus,' said Harry, 'make sure they go towards the front door and not up the stairs.'

'Expecto Patronum,' she said; her silver otter swam out from the tip of her wand, and landed by her feet.

'Expecto Patronum,' Ron repeated, his terrier bounding into life. 'I'll use mine as a guard for us, Harry, have your stag guide them out.

'Ok. Molly, open the front door,' said Harry. He heard the front door swing open again with a creek, as Mrs Weasley flicked her wand at it. 'Girls, when they're out, send your Patronuses after them; don't let them go for any muggles.'

'Gotcha,' said Ginny, raising her wand.

Harry pointed his wand at the dementors and the stag followed it, galloping around the hooded figures like a dog herding sheep. They scrambled towards the door, avoiding the silver Terrier at Ron's feet and out into the hall. With their path upstairs blocked by Hermione's otter, they dived towards the front door, and out into the morning air. Hermione directed her wand out into the street, and the otter darted after them, followed by Ron's terrier and Harry's stag.

'Expecto Patronum!' Ginny and Mrs Weasley chorused. Ginny's horse galloped down the corridor after the rest, with Mrs Weasley's lioness stalking along behind it.

'Well,' said Harry, lowering his wand. 'That's one room down then.'

'What else do you think there could be?' asked Ron.

'The temperature hasn't increased,' said Hermione. 'There's definitely more dementors.'

'I agree,' said Harry. 'This may take a while.'

They spent almost two hours purging the house of dementors. There were at least five locked in each room, and it took a careful strategy to chase them all out.

'Why only dementors, do you think?' asked Ginny, as they made their way up to the last two rooms on the top floor.

'It's obvious, isn't it?' said Hermione. 'The Death Eaters couldn't kill Harry; Voldemort wanted him alive. But if he'd received the Dementor's Kiss, it wouldn't have killed him.'

'So they filled the house with them, in the hope Harry came back on his own and got overwhelmed,' said Ron, considering the trap. 'Annoyingly, that's clever.'

Mrs Weasley sighed. 'Ron, don't praise the Death Eaters.'

'Sorry Mum.'

After the last two rooms were cleared, they made their way down to the kitchen.

'Kreacher?' said Harry. There was a crack, and the wizened little house elf appeared on the dining table, Regulus' locket swinging around his neck.

'Master Harry!' he croaked. 'There are foul beasts in the house!'

'It's ok, Kreacher, we've got rid of them all.'

'Very good, Master.' He took a low bow, and looked genuinely relieved. 'How can Kreacher be of service?'

'Could you make us lunch, please?'

'Certainly Master. Will it be for five?'

'Best make a bit extra,' said Harry, 'we're expecting others along shortly.'

'Very good, Master.' He vanished with another crack, but reappeared just a few moments later with a large tray stacked high with ingredients, and set to work.

'We'd better start re-decorating,' said Mrs Weasley. 'Have you decided which room you want to sleep in, Harry?'

'Might as well take the master bedroom,' he replied.

'Very well then, why don't you, Ginny and I start there, and perhaps Ron and Hermione could scour the bathroom.'

'Must we?' groaned Ron.

'Yes. Is that ok, Hermione?'

'Absolutely,' she replied, 'I was reading up on cleaning spells just last week.'

'Why?' asked Ron.

'I'd read all my other books.'

Ron shook his head. 'Mad,' he muttered. 'Quite mad.' Despite his exasperation, as they walked out of the kitchen, he stooped down and gave her a kiss.

There was a knock at the front door as Harry, Ginny and Mrs Weasley returned to the main hall.

'Come in,' said Harry. The door creaked open again to reveal Kingsley, two wizards and three witches standing on the top step.

'Harry, can I suggest the three of you stand on the stairs,' said Kingsley, without crossing the threshold. 'You're standing right where the dust will form.'

They stepped out of the way, as Kingsley and his associates took two steps into the house. The other five gagged on the tongue-tying curse, but Kingsley had clearly visited the house since Moody had installed the defences.

'It was not I that killed you, Albus,' he said, as the dust figure started to form on the spot where Ginny had been stood. Once it had burst back into the carpet again, Kingsley strolled up the hallway and shook Harry's hand. 'Sorry we took so long getting here, it's been chaos at the ministry this morning. Was there anything too nasty here?'

'Not much,' said Harry, sarcastically. 'Only hordes of dementors locked in every room.'

'Oh, sorry about that,' said Kingsley. 'Are they all gone now?'

'Yes,' said Mrs Weasley, 'Harry and Ron formed a strategy to drive them out of the house one room at a time.'

'Excellent work,' said Kingsley. 'Remind me to tell Raventree that you won't need any dementor-training.'

'Raventree?' asked Harry.

'Yes, Kenneth Raventree; new head of the Aurors. You'll meet him tomorrow. Now, what needs doing?'

x x x

It was late in the evening as the group of eight flopped down onto the newly-transfigured sofas in the drawing room. George and Mr Weasley had arrived to help after work and Kingsley's five associates had all left once they'd removed Moody's enchantments. They'd also managed to remove Mrs Black's portrait, but not well. The permanent sticking charm had proved so effective, that the only way to take down the painting had been to remove the wall it was attached to. Therefore, Kingsley, Ron and George had spent close to an hour magically rebuilding the wall.

Mrs Black had not gone quietly either. She had screamed obscenities right up until the moment Kingsley's two wizards had disapparated her out. Despite all this, the muggle family in the house next door, to which the wall had been adjoined, seemed entirely oblivious to the screeching portrait, the disappearance of their wall, and the three wizards working to rebuild it.

'At least we know the Fidelius charm still holds,' said George. 'They never even looked up from that lightbox of theirs.'

'Television,' Ron corrected. 'It's called a television.'

'Alright bro, calm down' said George, putting on his most patronising voice. 'Honestly, you're getting as bad as Dad.'

Ron had muttered something about Hermione having one, but elected not to have a full blown row in Kingsley's presence.

Aside from removing the wall, the whole process had gone quite smoothly. The master bedroom was decorated in Gryffindor's colours of red and gold, and Mrs Weasley had transfigured the lumpy old mattress into what would soon become the largest bed Harry had ever slept in.

Ron and Hermione had done a splendid job on the bathroom, cleaning away all the old grime and adding both a new shower and a bath. Hermione had even bewitched the bath tub to bubble on command.

'Have you made me a _magic_ hot tub?' asked Harry, when he had inspected their handiwork.

'I thought it might come in useful,' Hermione replied with a wink, 'y'know, eventually.'

The whole house was much brighter and considerably more inhabitable, though Harry had elected to leave two things unchanged.

The first was Sirius's room. Mrs Weasley had tidied it, insisting that she couldn't bear to leave it in its original state, but she had consented to leave all of Sirius's pictures and Gryffindor banners in place.

The second was the Black Family Tree on the drawing room wall. Rather than remove it, Harry had spent time after lunch restoring it, returning Sirius, Andromeda and Mr Weasley to their rightful places, before adding the rest of the Weasleys, Tonks, Remus, and Teddy. Finally, he had taken a considerable amount of satisfaction in blasting off Bellatrix Lestrange's name, leaving her as the tree's only remaining scorch mark.

'Right,' said Kingsley. He got to his feet and drained the last of his tea that Kreacher had provided. 'I'd best be off; I ought to check back in at the office before I go home. Harry, show me out will you?'

Harry got up as well, and led Kingsley down the staircase to the hallway.

'Is it true that Hermione's going back to Hogwarts?' Kingsley asked.

'Yeah,' Harry replied. 'I've told her you'd give her a job, but she wants to do it.'

'Hmmm, I see. And Ron? What's he doing next?'

'I don't know. I don't think he's thought about it yet.'

'And what about your friend Neville? Has he got anything lined up?'

'Neville? No, not as far as I know.'

'Uh-huh,' said Kingsley, thoughtfully. 'Interesting. Ok, so bright and early then, Harry, alright?'

'Yep, the Atrium at nine.'

'Excellent. Goodnight, Harry.'

'Goodnight, Minister.'

Kingsley stepped out onto the top step, and with the faintest pop, disapparated. Harry closed the door behind him.

'Mum said I can stay tonight,' said a soft, tired voice from the other end of the hall, 'if you want me to.'

Harry pulled Ginny into a cuddle. 'That'd be nice.'

'Harry.'

'Yeah?'

She pulled away and looked around the hall with a smile. 'You live here now.'

'I know,' he said, with a little sigh. 'How scary is that?'


	4. Chapter 4: Headhunters

**Chapter 4 –**** Head-hunters**

Harry's first day at work was far from being a simple settling-in period. The Aurors' office was still involved in a nationwide manhunt for the last few Death Eaters who still evaded capture, and so Harry was thrown in at the deep end. For this reason, he quickly realised that much of his training would be on-the-job.

When he'd arrived, Kingsley had introduced him to Kenneth Raventree and two other Aurors who were in the office; Eric Proudfoot and Nicholas Savage. Raventree had explained that the other four Aurors were out on missions.

'So there are only seven of you?' Harry had asked.

'Eight now, Potter,' Raventree had said, pointing Harry towards a desk with his name on it. 'Welcome aboard.'

'But, there are only eight of us. Shouldn't there be more than that?'

'Aye,' Eric Proudfoot had said from across the room; he spoke with a rough Yorkshire accent that Harry thought made him sound wise. 'So there should be, lad, but over half the office was killed when the Death Eaters took over, and all seven of us was fired by Thicknesse. That was, until Shacklebolt brought us back last month.'

'We'll staff back up,' Raventree had said, 'but it'll take a while. Since none of your year took their N.E.W.T.s, we've got to change the requirements.'

Harry's concerns about the low staff numbers were soon realised when just he and Proudfoot were sent out on a mission after lunch, along with the Obliviator Arnold Peasegood. Raventree sent them to Manchester, after receiving word that the Dark Mark had been cast outside a cricket ground, in view of several muggles.

'Merlin's beard,' said Proudfoot, as they Apparated into a quiet side street, 'I do hate coming to Lancashire. There's just something in the air, y'know?'

'Nope,' said Harry, reasonably, 'I have no idea.'

Proudfoot tutted. 'Southerners,' he muttered.

'What's the plan?' asked Peasegood.

'Round up the muggles who've seen the mark,' Proudfoot replied, 'find out if they saw who cast it, and wipe their memories.'

Finding these muggles was not difficult, as they were all stood together, staring up at the glistening emerald Mark, one or two of them taking photographs.

'Excuse me,' said Proudfoot, striding over to them with Harry in tow, 'can I ask, did anyone see what made that?'

'Who are you?' asked a man in a dark green anorak.

'D.I. Proudfoot, Greater Manchester Police,' said Proudfoot, withdrawing a muggle police badge from his robes, and showing it to the man. 'Now, did anyone see anything?'

'Yes mate,' said a teenager in a tracksuit. 'Some bloke done it with a stick, didn't he?'

'What did he look like?' asked Harry.

'Pretty tall,' said another teenager. 'Not huge, but bigger than me.'

'Face like a smacked arse,' said the first teenager.

'Aye, stern looking, he was. Sort of a blunt face.'

'That could describe half the wanted list,' Proudfoot muttered.

'Did he have any distinguishing marks or facial features?' asked Harry.

'Aye,' said the second teenager again, 'he had some odd tattoo on his arm.'

'Yeah,' said the first teenager, 'and he had a long blonde ponytail.'

Harry and Proudfoot looked at each other.

'Yaxley?' asked Harry, confused.

'Yaxley,' Proudfoot confirmed. 'Was anyone with him?'

'No,' said the first teenager, 'he was on his own.'

'Thank you gentleman,' said Proudfoot, 'you've been very helpful. If you could all just come this way and talk to my associate, Mr Peasegood, over here, he'll need to take a statement from you all.'

While Peasegood directed the crowd to gather around him, Harry and Proudfoot stepped away from the group. Proudfoot drew his wand from his robes, waved it, and the Mark dispersed into a light grey cloud. He turned to Harry, who was still looking confused.

'Questions?'

'Yeah,' said Harry, 'Firstly, how come you have a muggle police badge?'

'Quicker than trying to explain what an Auror is,' said Proudfoot. 'Next?'

'Since when has Yaxley been on the run?'

'Since the Battle of Hogwarts.'

'But, I saw him get taken down. Lee Jordan & George Weasley got him.'

'Taken down, but not killed. He fled the following morning. He was one of three who got away, along with Walden Macnair and Alecto Carrow.'

'Kingsley never told me about this.'

'We announced it in the Prophet; told people to keep an eye out.'

'Oh, I haven't been getting it lately.'

'Well, they've been causing trouble up and down the country ever since. Only little things mind; they can't risk doing anything that could get them caught. They're just lost sheep without You Know Who to lead them.'

'So they're all still out there.'

'No, we got Macnair last week. He never was very bright, Walden.'

'So Yaxley and Carrow?'

'Top of the wanted list.'

Harry ran his fingers through his hair. 'Should we, I don't know, search the area?'

Proudfoot removed a large sneakoscope from his pocket, and inspected it. 'No, he's no where nearby. Disapparated to wherever they're hiding, I expect.'

There was a flash of pale blue light behind them, and Harry turned to see Peasegood lowering his wand. The group of muggles all had the same dreamy expression on their faces, and their eyes were unfocussed.

'Done?' asked Proudfoot.

'Done,' Peasegood replied.

'Did you wipe the photographs?'

'Of course.'

'Right, let's go then. Nothing more we can do here.'

x x x

'Hey, how was work?' said Ginny, looking up as Harry came through the door. She was lying on the sofa in the drawing room, an open copy of _The Standard Book of Spells: Grade 7_ in her hands.

'Are you still here?' said Harry, laughing as he bent down to give her a kiss.

'I couldn't read at home, could I?' she replied. 'Mum would've made me help with the housework, and Hermione would be drawing me up revision plans or colour coding my sock draw.

'Hermione's colour coding your socks again?'

'I don't know,' said Ginny with a smile, 'because, blissfully, I'm not there.'

'What are you reading?' Harry asked. Ginny held up the book to show him the cover. 'Has your book list arrived then?'

'No,' she replied, 'but Hermione went and bought us a copy each two days ago. I think she was going mad without new reading material. McGonagall told her this would be on the list.'

'Sounds about right,' Harry muttered, sitting down and untying his shoes.

'So, how was work?'

Harry frowned. 'I guess it's not what I expected. There are only eight of us, and it turns out Yaxley and Alecto Carrow are still on the loose.'

'There's only eight Aurors?' said Ginny, sitting up and closing her book.

'Yeah, and I'm the eighth.'

'Wow,' said Ginny, 'pressure's on then.'

'You could say that,' Harry sighed. 'At least until they hire some new people.'

'Couple of Owls came for you today, by the way; they're on the desk over there.'

Harry got to his feet, and went to pick up his letters. He opened the first, read it, and was quite taken aback by its contents.

_Dear Mr Potter,_

_Puddlemere United__ would like to offer you a trial period, with a potential view to you joining our squad. We have heard very good things about your abilities as a Seeker from our Keeper Oliver Wood, and would be delighted to welcome you into the reserves, and eventually, the first team (subject to meeting our quality requirements and passing a medical)._

_If you're inter__ested, please reply by owl at your earliest convenience._

_Yours Sincerely,_

_Philbert Deverill_

_Manager, Puddlemere United_

Harry handed the letter to Ginny to read.

'Are you going to do it?' she said, once she reached the end.

'I've got a job,' he replied, opening his other letter. 'Besides, I'd never hear the end of it from Ron if I played for anyone but the Cannons, and I've got _some_ standards...'

He read the second letter.

_Harry,_

_Come for drinks at the Leaky Cauldron tonight. We want to celebrate your first day at work. We'll all be there at 8pm._

_Love,_

_Hermione._

_xx_

'You up for drinks later?' said Harry, turning to Ginny. She was still looking at the Puddlemere letter.

'You're _really_ not going to do this?' she said, disbelievingly. 'Nobody just gets offered a trial like this. Besides, everybody says you're a better Seeker than Charlie, and you know they say he...'

'... could've played for England,' said Harry with a smile. 'I know, and it's nice of them to ask, but I've known what I wanted to do for years. I've never really thought about playing Quidditch professionally. I'd be happy just playing for a pub team or something at the weekends.'

Ginny stared at him. She had a look on her face of complete bewilderment. Harry laughed at her, and with a sigh, she put the letter down on the coffee table.

'You're mad,' she muttered. 'You spent too much time with Dumbledore.'

'There are worse people to be influenced by,' said Harry with a smirk. 'Now, drinks?'

'Yeah, who's there?'

'Dunno, he said, checking the letter. 'Hermione didn't specify.'

'How incredibly unlike her,' Ginny replied with a grin. She got to her feet, gave Harry a kiss, and left the room to go and change for the pub.

x x x

The reason Hermione hadn't been specific was because she'd managed to fill the pub with all of their friends.

'Here he is!' Ron exclaimed, as Harry stepped out of the fireplace at the Leaky Cauldron.

'Sorry,' said Harry, checking his watch and seeing they were late, 'Ginny kept changing her mind about her shoes.'

'Ooh, you cheeky liar,' she said, stepping out of the fireplace behind him, and giving him a backhanded slap across the arm. 'I did not. It's because you haven't unpacked yet and couldn't find your jeans.'

'That may have been a factor,' said Harry, winking at Ron.

'Do either of you want a drink?' asked Hermione, 'Ron was just going to the bar.'

'Just a butterbeer, thanks,' said Harry.

'Surprise me,' said Ginny.

'No problem,' said Ron, 'oh hey, talk to Bill; he's around somewhere. You'll never believe the job he's just been offered.' He headed to the bar, disappearing into the crowd.

'I'm going to talk to Luna,' said Ginny, spotting her friend dancing on her own across the room. 'I'll find you in a bit, ok?'

'Yeah,' said Harry, 'oh, you've got some soot on the back of your dress.'

'Have I?'

'Yeah. Hang on.' He gave her a firm pat on the backside.

'Did you get it?'

'No,' said Harry with a grin, 'but I'll be happy to keep trying throughout the night.'

Ginny smirked and rolled her eyes. 'Whatever. In a bit, Potter.'

As she disappeared into the crowd, Harry turned back to Hermione.

'Get a room,' she muttered, also with a grin.

'Got several thanks,' said Harry. 'Big house, not far from here; you'd like it, actually.'

Hermione rolled her eyes. 'You're in far too good a mood,' she said, 'I'll catch up with you later. Bill's sat over there with Fleur, look.'

'Ah thanks,' he replied. He fought his way through the busy pub, shaking hands, kissing cheeks, and hugging Mrs Weasley as he went, until eventually he made it to where Bill and Fleur where seated.

'Ah, 'Arry,' Fleur exclaimed, getting to her feet and kissing him on both cheeks. 'Are you well?'

'Yes, very,' he said, shaking Bill's hand. 'Yourselves?'

'Excellent, thanks,' said Bill. 'All the better after today.'

'Yes, I hear you have news. What's going on?'

'Bill 'as been offered ze job as an 'Ogwarts' Professor,' said Fleur.

'Really?'

'I have, indeed,' said Bill.

'Which one?'

'I'll give you one guess.'

Harry's mouth fell open. 'Defence Against the Dark Arts?'

'Bingo,' said Bill with a smile. 'McGonagall came down to Shell Cottage to ask me herself.'

'What about the jinx?' Harry asked.

'Merlin's beard, Harry, you're an Auror now; you shouldn't need to ask that.'

'Ah, it broke when Voldemort died, didn't it?'

'It did.'

'Cool,' said Harry with a grin, 'who better than an ex-curse breaker?'

'Well, there's you,' said Ron, putting Harry's butterbeer down on the table, 'except you're not available.'

'I might get you to come up as a guest speaker though,' said Bill, 'just every now and then, if you fancy it.'

'Yeah, once I'm settled in at work,' said Harry. 'Sounds like fun.'

'Have you got to move to Hogsmeade?' Ron asked his brother.

'No, we're staying at Shell Cottage,' said Bill, 'I'll just Apparate up to the village each morning.'

'Well congrats,' said Harry, shaking Bill's hand. 'I'm glad it's you, mate.'

'Thanks Harry.'

Harry worked his way around the room, talking to all his friends and resisting the very real possibility of getting very drunk, very quickly. Everyone wanted to buy him a firewhiskey to celebrate. Eventually, he was rescued by Kingsley, just as Cho, Seamus and Dean began trying to line up shots on the bar.

'Quite a party,' said Kingsley.

'Any excuse these days,' Harry replied, smiling. 'It's nice to see everyone though.'

'Sorry I didn't tell you about Yaxley and Carrow by the way. I heard Eric told you, earlier.'

'Yeah, bit of a shock that, but we'll get them soon enough.'

'Good Harry, very good. Sounds like you're getting into the swing of it already.'

'I was more concerned that there are only eight of us in the office.'

'I'm working on that,' said Kingsley. 'I'm hoping to have brought in some new people by the end of the week.'

'Really? That soon?'

'Absolutely, but that's not what I wanted to talk to you about.'

'Oh really? What _did_ you want to talk about?'

'Hagrid.'

Harry looked across the bar to where Hagrid was sitting, still taller than everybody standing, swinging a vast tankard of mead back and forth as he and George sang a drinking song together.

'What about him?'

'I've been going through Cornelius's old files. Hagrid was expelled from Hogwarts after being accused of opening the Chamber of Secrets, is that right?'

'Yeah, but it wasn't him. It was Voldemort. Hagrid was framed.'

'Yes indeed, as you proved five years ago, I believe. I assume his wand was snapped, correct?'

Harry felt uncomfortable. Had Kingsley realised that Hagrid's pink umbrella contained the pieces of his old wand?

'Yeah it was. Look, Kingsley, I don't want to get anyone into trouble.'

Kingsley frowned. 'No-one's in trouble, Harry,' he said. 'You see, what I don't understand is, if he's been proved innocent, why hasn't Hagrid been allowed to purchase a new wand?'

Harry's mouth fell open. 'I don't know,' he said, after a moment. 'I guess I've never really thought about it.'

'Do you think he'd be interested? I realise he was only a third year when he was expelled, but I'm sure we could arrange for him to have some private tutorials with the other Hogwarts staff.'

'I'm sure he would,' Harry replied. 'He'll be over the moon.'

'Excellent, thanks for your thoughts Harry, I'll try and sort that out for him. Ah, just the man I want to speak to!'

Neville had just walked by, carrying two drinks and heading back to a table where Hannah Abbott was sat waiting.

'Who, me?' he said, checking over his shoulder, expecting to see someone more important.

'Yes, indeed Neville, can I have a word? I'll speak to you later, Harry.'

Harry gave a small goodbye wave as Kingsley walked away with Neville, who looked somewhat surprised that the Minister for Magic was talking to him.

'Wheeeeeere have you been, stranger?' said a voice from behind Harry.

Harry turned to see Ginny leaning against a pillar, a large glass in her hand containing a transparent turquoise liquid and a straw.

'I've been around,' he said, walking over to her. 'I've been waiting for you to find me, like you said. You got that soot off your bum yet?'

'I don't know,' she giggled, 'I'm not bendy enough to see.'

She turned around, and arched her back so Harry could get a better look. He swept his hand down the back of her dress again.

'Was it still there?'

'No,' said Harry, 'that was just for me.' She giggled again, and gave him a playful punch in the ribs.

'What're you drinking?' He peered into the glass to inspect the turquoise fluid.

'Icicle-rum,' she said. 'Tom's just started selling it. It's not bad; here.'

She handed the glass to Harry to taste. He took a sip. As soon as the liquid touched his lips, his whole body shivered. The drink was colder than winter, but not unpleasant, and had a faint taste of coconut.

'Wow, that'll take some getting used to.'

'Not really. This is my third,' she said, smiling mischievously and returning the straw to her lips for another sip.

'Oh good,' said Harry, with a smirk. 'My girlfriend's a drunk.'

She aimed another punch at his ribs again, but he darted out the way, and nearly bumped into Ron.

'You'll never guess what just happened,' he said, keeping his balance as he evaded Harry's leap.

'What?' asked Ginny.

'You will never guess what Kingsley just asked me,' said Neville, who had just appeared beside them. Neville had a look of complete shock on his face.

'No!' said Ron, raising his eyebrows. 'You too?'

'He asked you as well?' said Neville, looking back at Ron. Both their faces broke into grins.

'What?' asked Harry and Ginny together.

'Kingsley just offered us both a job,' said Neville.

'Oh cool,' said Harry, 'in what department?'

'Only the bloody Aurors office,' Ron replied. Both he and Neville were now finding it facially difficult to hide their excitement. Harry was stunned.

'You're joking?'

'Oh, thanks for your support,' Ron replied, sarcastically.

'Did you say yes?'

'Obviously!' said Ron and Neville together.

'That's amazing, boys,' said Ginny, hugging them both.

'Gran's never going to believe this,' said Neville, proudly.

'This is awesome,' said Harry, a grin now spreading across his face too.

'I know,' said Ron. 'Working together; who'd have thought it?'

'Have you told Hermione?' asked Ginny.

'Ah, good point,' said Ron. 'Hey, did I hear you got an offer from Puddlemere United?'

'_Go_ and _tell_ Hermione,' Harry repeated.

'Yeah, I'll see you in a bit.' He disappeared into the crowd.

'Wow, Neville,' said Harry, turning to his other friend, 'this is brilliant. When do you start?'

'Immediately,' said Neville. 'In fact, I'd better get home. Don't want to be late in the morning. Is it nine o'clock in the Atrium?'

'Yeah,' Harry replied. 'Someone'll come and meet you.'

'Brilliant,' said Neville still grinning. 'I'll see you tomorrow; Gran is _never_ going to believe this.' He headed back over to the table where Hannah was sitting, and picked up his cloak and his drink. A very loud and excited squeal came from the other side of the pub. Clearly, Ron had just told Hermione.

'Quite a night,' said Harry, turning back to Ginny.

'I know,' she replied, '_and_ it's still early.'

x x x

The next fortnight flew by. Ron and Neville were just two of the seventeen new Aurors that Kingsley and Raventree had recruited between them, though they were the _only_ two Harry had met before.

Training had become more intensive, as although many of the new recruits were already skilled duellists, they were not yet at the very high standard expected of an Auror. To nobody's particular surprise, after receiving a little instruction, Harry had soon proven himself to be one of the most able combatants in the department. By just the end of the second week, he was comfortably able to hold his own against Proudfoot, Raventree, and even Kingsley (who did, however, eventually beat him).

Ron was also affirming himself as a most useful addition to the office. He was proving to be an excellent strategist, and was already starting to assist in planning missions.

'What can I tell you,' he had said to Harry one afternoon, 'after fourteen years of playing Wizard's Chess, this is a piece of Cauldron Cake.'

The real surprise was that Neville too had flourished in his new surroundings. He had quickly established himself as the office's herbology expert, and was rapidly developing his duelling skills under Proudfoot's mentorship.

Despite all their hard work though, they were no closer to capturing either Yaxley or Carrow. There had been indications of them up and down the country, including another three Dark Mark sightings, but as was the case in Manchester, when the Aurors arrived, there was no sign of either Death Eater.

However, Harry's personal highlight of his second week came on the Friday afternoon, when he received an owl from an ecstatic Hagrid, to say that he'd just been to Ollivander's to purchase a new wand; seventeen inches, ebony and unicorn hair. The letter had also mentioned that Hagrid was to receive private tuition from Professors McGonagall and Flitwick.

'Good for him,' said Hermione, when Harry had informed her, Ron and Ginny. 'It's about time too. I might visit him when we're back at school to help work on his wandsmanship.'

The four of them were sitting together in the kitchen at Grimmauld Place, eating dinner that Kreacher had prepared. After the removal of Mrs Black's portrait, Harry had been reluctant to eat any of Kreacher's meals for a few days, for fear of them containing poison as a punishment, but it seemed the elf was ok with the changes to the house; happy to keep Regulus's locket as his souvenir of the Black family.

'Nothing again,' said Ron, scanning the property pages in the Daily Prophet.

'Don't read at the dinner table, Ron,' Hermione tutted.

'Says you,' he snorted, and Harry sniggered. 'I still can't find anywhere near work.'

Ron had spent the last week trying to find a place to live, despite Mrs Weasley's reluctance to let him leave the Burrow.

'Why don't you just move in here?' asked Harry, looking up from his steak pie.

'Really?' Ron replied.

'Yeah, why not? Seems daft to have this big house to myself, especially once the girls go back to Hogwarts.'

'Are you sure?'

'Yeah, and it'll save you having to pay rent, won't it? Which room do you want?'

'What's the biggest after yours and Sirius's?'

'The one we used to stay in when the Order was here.'

'I'll take that then.'

'Done.' They shook hands to seal the deal.

'Sorry,' said Hermione, shaking her head slightly, 'did that actually just happen that quickly?'

'Yeah, why?'

'Unbelievable, you boys; you'll do anything on the spur of the moment.'

Harry laughed. 'It's not like we haven't lived together before.'

'Yeah,' Ron agreed. 'We don't even have to share a room now.'

'Exactly, and I don't have to hear him snoring.'

'Oi!'

Before they could launch into an argument over Ron's snoring, the room was filled with green light, as the fireplace roared into life with green flames. Harry turned to it and saw Raventree's head floating in the flames.

'Potter, Weasley, come in to work now. We believe we've located the Death Eaters hide out.'

'On our way,' said Harry. Raventree's head nodded, and then disappeared.

'Don't wait up,' said Ron, pulling on his shoes and kissing Hermione.

'Where did I put my wand down?' asked Harry, searching the sideboard.

'It's here, babe,' said Ginny, picking it up from the table and handing it to him.

'Thanks,' he said, planting a kiss on his lips.

'Be safe,' she whispered.

'Come on now, Ginny,' he replied. 'Have you ever known me to get myself into unnecessary danger?'

He grinned, and he and Ron disapparated from the kitchen.

'I'll tell you what, Gin,' said Hermione, 'with our taste in men, we'll never be bored.'

Harry and Ron reappeared in the Atrium at the Ministry. They sprinted passed the recently restored Fountain of Magical Brethren, and into the elevators.

When they arrived in the office, there were six other Aurors already waiting, along with Proudfoot and Raventree.

'Where are they?' asked Harry, urgently.

'Right under our noses,' said Proudfoot. He was obviously annoyed by the information.

'Where?' asked Ron.

'We believe, Knockturn Alley,' said Raventree, 'It's been abandoned ever since Arthur Weasley's department seized all their merchandise. The Death Eaters have been moving about so we wouldn't find them, but we believe they've settled at the Alley this evening.'

'How do we know?' asked one of the other Aurors.

'They triggered a security spell we'd set up,' Proudfoot growled.

'Plan?' asked Harry.

'Any suggestions, Weasley?'

'How many are there?' asked Ron.

'We think five,' said Raventree, 'but we can't confirm whether Carrow or Yaxley are among them. We might even get both.'

'Well, there's ten of us; how about just "overwhelming force"?'

'Aye, works for me,' said Proudfoot. 'Can we apparate directly into the Alley? Cover all the exits?'

'Yes,' said Ron, 'but I think one of us should go ahead, try to remain undetected, and as soon as the rest of us arrive, cast the anti-disapparition jinx.'

'Good thinking,' said Proudfoot. 'Stop them escaping.'

'That also means we can't retreat,' muttered one of the other Aurors.

'You all know the risks, don't you?' asked Raventree.

There was a chorus of 'yes, sir' from the group.

'Very well,' said Raventree. 'Who's going first?'

'I will,' said Proudfoot.

'Very well, I'm team leader; anything happens to me, Proudfoot's my second. Understood?' Everybody nodded. 'Good, Eric, go now. We'll be five seconds behind you.'

Proudfoot nodded, and disapparated.

'Why didn't we just apparate straight here?' Ron muttered to Harry. 'We needn't have run through the whole building.'

Harry shrugged. 'To be honest, I didn't know we could.'

'Ready?' said Raventree. 'Go!'

Focusing on Knockturn Alley, they all disapparated from the office. But as he reappeared in the dimly lit alleyway, Harry was horrified by the sight that greeted him.

Proudfoot was on his knees. He waved his wand through the air, casting the anti-disapparation jinx, but then he slumped backwards, falling on the ground, deep slashes cut across his face and torso. Harry immediately recognised them as the effects of Sectumsempra, but he didn't have time to dwell on it.

They were surrounded. At least twelve Death Eaters, all wearing their masks and brandishing wands, had appeared in the shop doorways.

'Attack!' shouted Raventree, obvious panic in his voice. The Aurors were outnumbered.

Curses flew through the alley, some ricocheting off each other and exploding in mid-air. Three Death-Eaters were down instantly, but they'd taken two of the Aurors with them.

'Stupefy!' Harry bellowed, pointing his wand at the hooded figure in the doorway of Borgin & Burke's. The Death Eater was blasted back into the shop and knocked unconscious by the force of Harry's spell.

Harry heard Ron shouting 'Protego' behind him, and was relieved to know he was still standing.

Three Death Eaters had turned together upon Raventree. The Head Auror moved his wand with a ferocity Harry had never seen. One hex left Raventree's wand, but it was so powerful that it took down two of his assailants. Unfortunately, the third remained, and with a sudden slash of the Death Eater's wand, a streak of purple flame struck Raventree in the chest. He fell to the floor, paralyzed.

'Reducto,' shouted Harry, shattering Raventree's attacker into the alley wall. Harry turned. Another Death Eater was coming for him, preparing to use the same slashing attack that had paralyzed Raventree.

'Relashio,' Ron yelled. The hex struck the Death Eater in the ribs, sending him flying sideways through a shop window.

The others had incapacitated four of the Death Eaters, leaving only three, but now, only Ron and Harry were still standing for the Aurors. They stood back to back as the three Death Eaters closed in on them.

'Take the red-head!' shouted one of the Death Eaters. 'Potter's mine!' It was a witch's voice; angry and hateful. Harry recognised her immediately.

'It's Carrow,' he shouted to Ron.

'IMPEDIMENTA!' Ron shouted, his jinx striking one of the remaining Death Eaters with enough force to knock him to the ground. 'I'm a bit busy, Harry, just at the...'

'RON!' Harry shouted. Alecto had struck him with a curse, but whether it was lethal or not, Harry couldn't tell.

The two remaining Death Eaters were closing in on Harry from either side, wands raised.

'At _last_,' Carrow cackled, removing her mask with a wave of her wand. 'At last, I shall be the one to kill the famous Harry Potter.'

Harry was trying not to panic. The two Death Eaters were some distance apart; he would have time to curse one of them, but not the other.

'Because of you Potter,' Carrow continued, 'because of you my master is dead, and my brother in Azkaban, but now...'

An idea sprang into Harry's brain. He glanced at the floor and spotted what he needed.

'..._Now_, I shall have my revenge. FOR THE DARK LORD! AVADA...'

It all happened at once. Alecto had lifted her wand, preparing to cast the curse. The other Death Eater stood watching, wand still raised. Harry dived to the floor, grabbed Ron's wand in his left hand, and rolled into a kneeling position.

Arms outstretched, he shouted, 'Petrificus Totalus!' Light erupted from each wand, and quite to Alecto's surprise, struck each Death Eater square in the chest. They fell to the ground, their bodies rigid, their arms and legs invisibly bound.

Harry turned back to Ron. He checked his eyes for signs of consciousness and his wrist for a pulse. Harry breathed a sigh of relief; Ron was only stunned.

'Rennervate,' Harry muttered, pointing his wand at Ron's chest.

'Well, that was embarrassing,' said Ron, sitting up, and massaging his chest. 'All those curses flying around and I get _stunned_.'

'Check who else is alive,' said Harry, getting to his feet and handing Ron back his wand. 'Bind the Death Eaters.'

'How did you take two out at once?' Ron asked. He waved his wand, and cords shot from the tip, tying themselves around the nearest Death Eaters. 'I've never seen that before.'

'Dunno,' said Harry, 'first time I've tried it.'

Ron revived three other Aurors who had also been stunned, and they helped to treat the other wounded. Harry worked on Proudfoot, repeatedly muttering 'Vulnera Sanentur' as he waved his wand over the cuts.

'He needs more treatment than I can give him,' said Harry. 'Someone take him to St Mungo's.'

'I will,' said one of the other Aurors.

'You'll have to carry him out of the alley first,' said Ron. 'We can't lift his anti-disapparition jinx.'

'Take Raventree too,' said Harry, checking his boss's pulse. 'I don't know how to reverse this curse.'

'You, what's your name?' asked Ron, pointing at one of the other Aurors.

'Byrnes,' replied the man. He had sandy coloured hair, and couldn't have been much older than either Harry or Ron.

'Go back to the Ministry. Find reinforcements; we'll need help taking these off to Azkaban.'

'Yes sir,' said Byrnes, running out of the Alley to find an apparition point, followed by the other two Aurors who were carrying Raventree and Proudfoot.

Harry was removing the Death Eaters' masks.

'Bugger,' he mutted, as he removed the last one.

'What's up?' asked Ron.

'Yaxley; he's not here.'

'At least we got Carrow and these others. They must be half the wanted list.'

Harry looked at the other three Aurors, still lying on the floor.

'Are they...?'

'Dead,' said Ron. His voice trembled as the word crossed his lips.

Harry ran his fingers through his hair. 'Y'know,' he sighed, 'for a month or so there, I really thought we'd seen the last of this.'

Page **19** of **19**


	5. Chapter 5: The Silver Seer

**Chapter 5 – ****The Silver Seer**

The Knockturn Alley raid had played in the press as a huge victory for the Aurors' office, and even though it was, it had also inflicted a great strain on the department.

The death of three new Aurors so soon after their hiring had caused Kingsley's recruiting drive to stall. The "must-hire" list had run dry, as nobody wanted to work for a department that couldn't keep its employees alive for more than a fortnight; especially in what was supposed to be peace-time.

Proudfoot had left St Mungo's Hospital after a matter of days, scarred and sore. The Healers had only agreed to release him on the strict condition that he remained desk bound for at least a month. He was however, cheerful to be back in the office, and had been quick to point out to Harry that he'd got off lightly.

'These?' he'd said the afternoon he got back, pointing to his new scars. 'These are nothing. I'm still alive, aren't I? Merlin's beard, I remember the day old Mad-eye Moody came in having lost his leg. All part of the job, lad. Best way to avoid it; be quicker than your opponent. That's all.'

While Proudfoot had bounced back from his injuries relatively quickly and with good humour, the same could not be said for Raventree. The effects of the curse had severely ruptured his internal organs, and he had been receiving round the clock care from a team of Healers. Proudfoot, desk-bound as he was anyway, had agreed to run the department in Raventree's absence, and had named Harry as the acting field-commander.

Harry himself had caused quite a stir within the Ministry. News of his two-wanded defence had spread within a day, and people had been congratulating him for Carrow's arrest ever since.

'Second week on the job, and you take down number two on the wanted list.'

'Good work, Potter. They're running scared now.'

'Bet old Yaxley's quaking in his boots.'

'Only your second week!'

'Can you teach me how to do that two-wanded attack?'

'Seriously,' said Ron, after the latest witch had congratulated Harry, 'how _did_ you do it?'

'Is it really that unusual?' said Harry. 'Plenty of people are left-handed; it's just that normally, nobody _carries_ two wands.'

This was however something Harry had started doing all the time. He still had the Hawthorn Wand he'd won from Malfoy. It had been sitting in his trunk at Grimmauld Place ever since he'd used the Elder Wand to repair his own. On a trip into Diagon Alley, he'd bought himself a leather holster that attached to his belt, using it on missions to carry the second wand in.

The fortnight that had followed the attack had been incredibly quiet for the office. It seemed that with all his cohorts arrested, Yaxley had gone underground and there had been no sightings of him or indicators of his whereabouts. Therefore, Harry and Ron had spent most of their time in the training room. After days of practice with two wands, Harry had become proficient at dual stunning, disarming, body binding, and fire wielding.

At the same time, Ron's duelling ability had radically developed. The challenge of taking on Harry with two wands had meant that he had been forced to raise his game. While Harry was still the better duellist when focusing his efforts on a single wand, Ron was becoming highly competent at blocking Harry's split-focused attacks. As a result, his reaction times were vastly increased.

'It'll be a sharp witch or wizard that stuns me on a mission now,' he'd said, happily, as they walked back from the training rooms on their way to lunch.

'Yeah,' said Harry, 'unless _I _do it by accident, of course.'

The summer rolled by, and as September arrived, the Wizarding community finally seemed to have settled into its post-Voldemort life. Things were genuinely quiet at the Ministry (or at least, as quiet as they could be), but with one important difference; in the penultimate week of August, Kingsley Shacklebolt had been officially elected as the permanent Minister for Magic.

This had allowed Kingsley to start making changes he hadn't been able to make as acting-Minister, most notable of which was stripping Peter Pettigrew of his Order of Merlin, and the official clearance of Sirius's name.

Kingsley had also decided to promote a number of his employees. There were certain positions whose vacancies an acting-Minister was not allowed to fill for fear that it may lead to a power grab. Therefore, the position as Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, previously held by Yaxley, had remained vacant since Voldemort's downfall. It had therefore come as a pleasant surprise for the family when Kingsley offered the job to Mr Weasley. This came with fewer hours (no more all-night raids) and a considerable pay-increase. To celebrate, the whole Weasley family, including Harry, Hermione, and Audrey, had gone out for dinner. Mrs Weasley had also taken Ginny to buy brand new Hogwarts robes for the first time in her life.

On August 31st, Harry had invited Mr and Mrs Weasley, Hermione, and Ginny to stay the night at Grimmauld Place, in order to save time getting to King's Cross the following morning.

When they woke, it was the calmest September 1st Harry had seen in eight years. Everything was already packed and ready to go by the door. There were also only two trunks and Crookshanks's basket to load into the Ministry car that came to pick them up.

Harry had been quite surprised to see that Ron was grinning as he lifted Hermione's trunk into the boot.

'What're you so happy about?' Harry asked.

'Hmmm? Oh, nothing,' Ron replied, clearly distracted by his own thoughts. Despite Ron's insistence that he had no reason to be especially happy, the grin barely left his face during the week that followed. The only time Harry saw it slip was when Ron and Hermione shared a long kiss goodbye on Platform 9 and ¾, followed by a slightly teary hug before she boarded the train. Meanwhile, Harry and Ginny exchanged a quick, slightly awkward farewell kiss, neither one really sure how to say goodbye.

'I'll, er, see you soon, yeah?' said Harry.

'I guess,' Ginny replied, 'you could probably come up to Hogsmeade when there's a trip next month.'

'Yeah, or I think Bill's going to have me up to talk to his classes.'

'I'll try and ask him to pick a weekend with a match so you can come and watch.' Two weeks before, Ginny had received a letter to say she was the new Gryffindor Quidditch captain. The decision had been delayed, as the search for Professor McGonagall's replacement as Head of House had taken most of the summer.

'Sounds good,' said Harry.

'Train's leaving!' Mrs Weasley called from across the platform.

They stared at each other for a moment, and then realised they should probably hug.

'Have fun,' said Harry.

'Be safe,' said Ginny. 'Don't even think about getting yourself killed.'

'I will and I won't,' he said, forcing a grin. She smiled, and walked away from him.

'Oh,' she said, turning back. 'Nearly forgot; love you.'

'Oh, yeah,' Harry replied, screwing his toes into the sole of his shoes. How had they _both_ forgotten to say it? 'Love you too.'

She walked back, planted another small kiss on him, and said, 'seeya'. She turned to leave again, but Harry grabbed her wrist, stopping her.

'About last night,' he started, but she cut him off.

'It's fine,' she said, quietly. 'We'll talk about it when you visit; I've got to go.'

'Ginny! Come on!' shouted Hermione, leaning out the carriage door.

'Write to me?' said Ginny.

'Every day.'

They hugged again, broke apart, and Ginny ran and jumped up over the gap between the platform and the carriage. Hermione pulled the door shut, and they both leaned out through the window to wave.

The train pulled away, and Harry, Ron, and Mr and Mrs Weasley stayed on the platform, waving, until the train was completely out of sight.

x x x

As the end of October arrived, so did an owl from Bill. Gryffindor's first match of the season would be the week after Halloween, and he suggested that Harry should come up for the weekend, teach classes for the day on the Friday, watch the match on Saturday and leave in the evening.

Harry, having checked he was allowed the weekend off, wrote back saying he'd love to.

'Shame I can't,' said Ron. 'If it wasn't for all this paperwork I'd go with you.'

'Come for the match on Saturday,' Harry replied, looking up from his desk, and attaching the note to the Owl's leg. 'I'm sure McGonagall won't mind; if she does, just show her your chocolate frog card.'

Ron snorted a laugh. 'It's got to have _some_ perks,' he said, 'I've not even got a free drink out of it yet.'

'Besides, you must want to see Hermione at some point, right?'

'Well, obviously, though knowing her, she'll be surrounded by a pile of books the whole time we're there.'

'She is doing her N.E.W.T.s,' said Harry. 'She's probably used them all to build a book-fort by now.'

'Where are you going to sleep?' asked Ron.

'Apparently there's a guest room in Gryffindor tower.'

'Is there?'

'To be fair, we'd have never gone looking for one, would we? We slept in the same room for six years.'

'True. I suppose most of our exploring tended to be outside of the dormitory.'

They both sighed. 'Do you miss it?' Ron asked.

'So much.'

'Oh good; I thought it was just me.'

x x x

'Harry!' said Hagrid, brightly as he came down to unlock the gates. 'I was 'opin' it was you. I saw yeh Patronus gallopin' pas' me cabin.' He withdrew his new wand, muttered a few incantations and tapped the gates with it.

They swung open, and Harry greeted Hagrid with a hug. 'How're you?' said Harry, as they walked up the path to the castle. Hagrid flicked his wand over his shoulder at the gates so they swung shut again.

'Can't complain, Harry, can't complain,' Hagrid replied.

'Magic lessons going well, I take it?'

'Very well. Great teachers, Flitwick and Falco.'

'Falco?'

'Yeah, Eileen Falco. New Transfiguration teacher.'

Harry had forgotten that as Professor McGonagall was now Headmistress, she would no longer be teaching classes. Then another thought occurred to him; something he'd never got around to asking Ginny in their letters (not that that was saying very much; following the awkwardness of their departure, their letters had become little more than written small-talk).

'Who's Head of Gryffindor now?'

'Bill.'

'Is he?'

'Yeh, well tha's why there was a delay choosin' McGonagall's successor. The job is suppose' ter go ter a member of staff who's bin with the school a while, but it turns out tha' McGonagall, Bill an' me are the only Gryffindors left on the teachin' staff.'

'Why didn't you get it then?'

'I asked not too,' Hagrid replied. 'McGonagall was very kind offerin' it ter me, but yeh need more magical skill than I've got, yeh know, ter protect the students.'

'I think you'd have been great,' said Harry, looking up at Hagrid.

'Ahhhh, shush yeh,' said Hagrid. He looked straight ahead, but Harry could tell that he was beaming.

As they rounded a corner in the path, the castle moved into view. It had been spectacularly well restored. Chunks of the battlements that had been ripped away during the battle had been seamlessly returned to the walls. Smashed windows were whole again. The oak front doors had been returned to their hinges. Looking out over the lake, Harry could see the giant squid happily splashing about in the water.

The front door swung open, and a familiar face stood the other side of it.

'Ah, it _is_ you Harry,' said Professor McGonagall. 'I take it you let him in, Hagrid?'

'I did, Headmistress,' said Hagrid.

She gave Harry a hug, and gestured him inside.

'What on earth's going on?' said Harry, a smile on his face. 'Hugs? First-names? When did all this start?'

'You're not a student anymore, Harry,' she replied, returning his smile. 'I think we can do away with the formalities, don't you?'

'If you say so… Minerva,' said Harry.

'…But _you_ can stick to Professor while we're in the school,' she said.

Harry laughed, though he wasn't entirely sure whether or not she was joking.

'The students are in their morning classes,' she continued. 'The first Defence Against the Dark Arts class is in second period, so come up to my office in the meantime; you can tell me about how work is going.'

'I'll see yeh at lunch, I expect,' said Hagrid.

'Yeah,' Harry replied. 'See you later.'

Professor McGonagall led the way up the marble staircase, until they arrived at the stone gargoyle that guarded the Head's office.

'Bandy legs,' she said. The gargoyle jumped off the plinth and bowed to Harry as they stepped on to the spiral staircase.

'By the way,' she added, as the staircase started to revolve, 'about your Patronus.'

'What about it?'

'It didn't say anything when it got here.'

'Yeah, I was never taught how to do that.'

'Oh, I beg your pardon,' she said, 'I thought Dumbledore would've shown you. Ask the Minister to teach you sometime; he's a natural.'

They reached the top of the stairs, and McGonagall opened the door. The office looked both exactly the same and entirely different. The portraits of former Headmasters and mistresses still covered the walls; the Sorting Hat still resided on a shelf behind the desk, and the black cabinet containing Dumbledore's Pensieve still stood opposite the desk, its doors closed.

However, all of Dumbledore's other belongings were now absent, including Fawkes' stand, the various silver instruments, and even the spindle-legged tables they once stood upon. Professor McGonagall had made this _her_ office.

'Yes, I know,' she said, noticing Harry look around at the changes. 'It took me a few days to get used to it. Even now, I'll catch myself calling it Albus's office.'

Harry smiled weakly, and went to sit down in his usual chair across from the desk, but she had not joined him. He looked around and saw she had opened the Pensieve's cabinet doors. She removed the bowl from the cabinet, and placed it in front of Harry.

'There's something you need to see,' she said, taking her seat behind the desk. 'As you're aware, I've never been a big admirer of Divination, but being Headmistress now, I am expected to make time for _all_ of my teachers.'

Harry concealed a smirk. He knew only too well that Professor McGonagall didn't see eye-to-eye with Professor Trelawney.

'Therefore,' she continued, 'during the summer I accepted an invitation from Sybill to join her for tea in her tower. As usual, despite the summer heat, Sybill had her fire burning, and when I arrived she was, I believed, sleeping in her chair.'

'You believed?' said Harry, suspecting he knew what was coming.

'Indeed. As it turns out, she was, I suppose, waiting.'

'Waiting?'

'Harry, this will go a lot quicker if you don't repeat everything I say. Yes, she was waiting. Are you aware that a true prophecy cannot be made unless there is someone to hear it?'

'No, I didn't know that.'

'I see. Well, when I had found her, as I thought, sleeping, I tried to wake her and then she, well, I'll show you.'

Professor McGonagall raised her wand to her temple. When she removed it, a silver thread was attached to its tip. With a touch of her wand to the surface of the Pensieve, the memory fell from it and began swirling around in the basin.

Another prod from her wand, and an armchair rose out of the surface, its back to Harry. It began to revolve, and as it turned, he saw Professor Trelawney, as silver as the moon, slumped back in the chair her mouth sagging and her huge, insectoid eyes unfocussed. Harry recognised the condition, having seen it four years earlier when she had predicted Voldemort's return. Her mouth closed for a moment, and then she spoke in a harsh, hoarse voice that reverberated through the office.

_'The Chosen One stands in victory and strikes fear in the heart of darkness. With the Dark Lord's defeat, his gifts are lessened, but his talent is ever increasing. But even now__, a new power moves against him and he knows not of its coming. No comparison to the Dark Lord alone, but together they shall fill the void. When the princess dies and the lost bird cries, the legion shall rise as one. The princess dies... the lost bird cries... the legion rise as one..._'

As she finished, the chair, still revolving, sank back into the basin, dispersing amongst the silvery liquid.

Harry considered it for a moment, before asking, 'Do you know what it means?'

'I have theories for parts of it,' she replied, gazing at Harry over her glasses.

'So do I,' he replied. 'Unfortunately, they're probably the same parts.'

'What's really unfortunate is that the ideal person to consult has been visiting his other portraits for several days.' She gestured above her head, to the empty frame that had been occupied by Dumbledore for just over a year. 'I can tell you this though, Harry. I received an owl from Madame Maxime at Beauxbatons. One of her students was killed over the summer.'

'What?' said Harry, looking down from Dumbledore's portrait.

'A young girl by the name of Colette Chevalier. There were no marks on the body, so the French Ministry of Magic are investigating for murder.'

'Why are you telling me?'

'Mademoiselle Chevalier was the daughter of France's Minister for Magic.'

Harry felt his mouth fall open. 'When the princess dies... You think this means her?'

'I do. There is no magical royalty; not in any country. The closest we have to a monarch is the Minister for Magic, and his or her children are the closest we have to princes and princesses.'

Harry nodded, thoughtfully. He had learned this lesson the hard way two years earlier, with the discovery that Snape was the Half Blood Prince.

'Ok,' he said, 'what about the rest of it.'

'Well,' she said, reaching for a piece of parchment on which she had written out the prophecy, 'I assume _the chosen one_ is you. _His gifts are lessened_? Have you found yourself unable to do anything since Voldemort's defeat that you could before?'

'Not as far as I know,' said Harry. 'But I've found I can wield two wands at once; maybe that explains the next bit.'

'_His talent is ever increasing_; yes, that sounds right.'

'What about _the lost bird_? Do you know of any missing birds?'

Professor McGonagall looked up from the parchment to eye Harry over the top of her glasses. There was a slightly exasperated look on her face.

'I'm a school Headmistress, Harry; I don't tend to keep track of missing animals.'

'Ah, no, of course; I'll check with the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures when I get back to work on Monday; see if they've heard anything.'

Her lips curled into a small, amused smile. She handed him the parchment, and he re-read it. 'I can't help with _the legion_ either, I'm afraid,' she said. 'I've never heard of any group that calls themselves that.'

'Hopefully,' said Harry, 'it's because they don't exist yet.'

He looked up and was surprised to see she was watching him again.

'Professor Dumbledore was a very wise man, Harry,' she said, quietly. 'He told me once that prophesies can be very dangerous things. The events they describe usually come to pass _because_ the people they detail have heard them.'

'I know,' said Harry. 'That's how Voldemort chose me as his enemy.'

'What I'm trying to say, Harry, is do try to be careful.'

'I'm always careful,' he replied. 'It's everything _around_ me that causes the trouble.'

x x x

By lunch time, Harry was so hungry that he was delighted to see the inside of the Great Hall once again. He had intended to sit with Hermione at the Gryffindor table, but as he was no longer a student, he had been invited to sit at the staff table. This did come with the advantage of avoiding an awkwardly forced conversation with Ginny.

The morning classes had gone well; Bill (or Professor Weasley as he was to the students) had introduced him, and from that point on it was just like teaching the D.A., only without the need for sneaking around.

He had instructed the second years on how to disarm each other, and taught basic Shield Charms to a fourth year class.

'Going well,' said Bill, as they walked from the classroom to the Great Hall. 'Half of that lot haven't been able to cast a decent shield charm all term.'

'Oh, it's nothing,' said Harry. 'I'm sure you could've taught them.'

'I'd like to think so, but they get complacent with me teaching them. Having you come in shakes things up; reignites their enthusiasm.'

Harry smiled, and took his seat at the staff table, to his delight, between Hagrid and Bill. He saw Hermione give him a little wave from the Gryffindor table, and he smiled back. She was sitting with Ginny, who smiled to Harry as well, and he winked back.

'Don't wink at my sister in front of the whole school, Harry,' Bill sighed. 'Normally I don't mind what you two get up to, but your teaching the seventh year class this afternoon and you can't look like you're playing favourites.'

'She's my girlfriend,' said Harry, half laughing. 'I'm sure they all know.'

Bill opened his mouth and closed it again, as though he'd tried to think of a retort, but been unable to do so.

'From wha' I'm told,' muttered Hagrid, so only Harry could hear, 'things ain't that tight with the two of yer at the moment, anyway.'

'Who told you that?'

'Hermione,' Hagrid replied, ladling tomato soup into the huge bowl before him. 'Worrin' about yeh, as usual.'

'We're fine,' said Harry, quietly, 'just, things have been a bit... awkward, lately.'

'Anythin' I should worry about?'

'No, no. It's just...' He paused for a moment, trying to decide how much to tell Hagrid. 'Have you ever had your expectations of something built up so high, that when the thing finally comes along, it's not as good as you hoped?'

'Oh yeh,' said Hagrid. 'I bought a Demiguise once. Was suppose' ter help keep weeds out of me pumpkin patch. Course, the damn thing turned invisible as soon as they delivered it, and I ain't seen it since. It'll be in the forest, I expect.'

Harry frowned; if Hagrid thought that was advice, it wasn't very helpful. He leaned forward, and helped himself to another chicken leg.

'Anyway,' said Hagrid, ripping off half a loaf of bread and dunking it in his soup, 'I jus' do the weedin' meself now. I tell yeh, if you gonna do sumthin', you might as well find yeh own, _simple_ way o' doin' it. Everythin' else just complicates matters.'

Harry stared at Hagrid, who met his eye, and smiled.

'Y'know Hagrid; that may be the best advice you've ever given me.'

'Really?' said Hagrid. 'Who'd have thought my pumpkins could be so useful?'

Harry glanced across at the Gryffindor table. Hermione were laughing, apparently at something Ginny had just said. He smiled, caught Bill's eye, and then busied himself with a bowl of mashed potato.

x x x

'That was a very good lesson, Harry,' said Hermione, as they left the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom.

'There's no need to sound so surprised,' said Ginny, grinning. 'He did teach the D.A. for a year.'

'I know,' said Hermione, 'but actually duelling against someone with Auror training was fascinating.'

Harry's final class of the day had been with the seventh years. As a test of their duelling abilities, Harry had made them line up, and one at a time, go head-to-head against him. Harry had comprehensively won each duel, though both Hermione and Ginny had done considerably better than the others.

'You two did well though,' said Harry reasonably.

'Well, we've had a lot of firsthand experience,' said Hermione, dismissing the compliment. 'What with the battle here and everything, but it really was fascinating to see the standard expected of the Aurors.'

'Oh damn,' said Ginny, checking her watch. 'I've got to go; last pre-match Quidditch practice. I'll see you later, yeah?'

'Yeah,' said Harry.

'Ok, because we need to talk.'

'I know. Go now, don't keep the team waiting.'

Ginny kissed him on the cheek, said goodbye to Hermione, and ran off to Gryffindor tower to pick up her broom.

'What are you doing now?' said Harry, turning to Hermione.

'Nothing, why?'

'Come here.'

He led her into an empty classroom, and withdrew the parchment McGonagall had given him from his robes, and showed it to Hermione.

'What's this?' she asked, after quickly skim-read it.

'New prophecy; Trelawney made it to McGonagall.'

'Do you know what it means?'

'No. Well, yes; bits of it, I think.'

'This princess,' said Hermione, looking up from the parchment. 'Is that anything to do with Colette Chevalier?'

'How do you know about that?'

'Gabrielle told Fleur, Fleur told Bill, Bill told Ginny, Ginny told me.'

'Ah, right. McGonagall thinks so.'

'And the lost bird?'

'No idea.'

'Hmmm, well I can check in the library for anything about a dark legion if you like, but the only thing I've ever heard of even close to that is the Death Eaters, and there's only one of them left now.'

'Oh, don't you worry about it,' said Harry, 'you've got your own work to do. Just thought you'd want to know what's going on.'

'Are you allowed to talk about Auror missions?' Hermione frowned.

'It's not a mission yet,' said Harry, reasonably. 'I don't even know what it's about.'

'Speaking of which, what, in the name of all that is magical, is going on with you and Gin?'

'What's got into Ron?' Harry countered. 'He didn't stop grinning for about a week after you left. I thought he'd be really cut up.'

Hermione blushed. 'Never mind Ron, I asked you first.'

'Why are you blushing?'

'Oh, fine,' she said, with a frustrated sigh, 'if you must know, two nights before I came back to school, Ron and I...'

'You didn't?' Harry interrupted, suddenly realising what she meant.

'We did.'

'Ohhhhh, so that's why...'

'Exactly.' Hermione grinned, almost as widely as Ron had been doing after she'd left, and bit her lip.

'It was _that_ good,' said Harry. He was frowning slightly now. 'On the first time?'

'Yeah, I suppose,' she replied. 'Not that I've anything to compare it to, of course. Why do you look confused?'

'Huh? Oh, no reason.'

'Harry... what _is_ going on with you and Gin?'

'Nothing, really.'

'Harry...' She stared him down, waiting for him to answer. He sighed, and stared out of the window.

'It's just; it didn't go... _that_ well, for us.'

It took Hermione a fraction of a second to understand his meaning. 'Oh,' she said, as the penny dropped. 'Oh, Harry, so that's why...?'

'Yeah, we didn't really get a chance to talk about it before she left.'

'When did it happen?'

'The night after you and Ron, apparently.'

'The night before we came back to school?'

'Yeah.'

Hermione thought for a moment, and then pulled Harry into a hug. 'Just talk it through,' she said. 'I'm sure it'll get better for you; it's you and Ginny after all. You were pretty much made for each other. Just talk it through, and don't stress too much. Keep things simple.'

Harry smiled. 'That's what Hagrid said.'

'Did he really?'

'Sort of, only he was talking about Pumpkins.'

* * *

><p><strong>As I imagine you've noticed, I'm not much of a one for footnotes, but I thought it was worth mentioning that a significant portion of this chapter was<strong>**, in true JKR style, written in a coffee shop in Edinburgh!**


	6. Chapter 6: Bedknobs & Broomsticks

**Chapter 6 ****– Bedknobs & Broomsticks**

After Dinner, Hermione let Harry into Gryffindor Tower with the new password, and he carried his travel-trunk up the stairs to the guest room. It was higher up than he'd ever gone in the tower before, and as he passed his old dormitory, he noticed it now bore a new sign, reading "First Years".

He eventually reached the top of the staircase, and opened the door, marked "Guests". If he'd ever thought the student dormitories were impressive, they were nothing compared to this. There was a huge four-poster bed (easily twice the width of his old one in the dorm below), a nightstand with a radio on it, a pair of squishy armchairs, an en-suite bathroom, and a small table with a jug of pumpkin juice and two glasses on it.

Harry was just unpacking his trunk when there was a knock at the door.

'Come in,' he said, not looking up from the bed. He heard the door open, someone walk in, and the door shut behind them. He turned around to see who it was. 'Oh, it's you.'

'Of course it's me,' said Ginny, wearing her dressing gown and slippers, 'who else is going to come up here?'

Harry considered her question. 'Good point,' he concluded. 'How was practice?'

'Tiring, but I think we've got a good chance tomorrow, assuming Stanley lasts the match.'

'Who's Stanley?'

'Stanley Hicksworth; new seeker.'

'Any good?'

'He'll do I suppose; not a patch on you or Charlie, mind. Just have to hope we score a lot more than Slytherin so the Snitch doesn't matter.'

Harry frowned. 'Was there no-one better at trials?'

'There was no-one _else_ at trials. Seems people think you're a hard act to follow.'

'Rubbish,' said Harry, now grinning. 'Just because I only lost one game the whole time I was here, and we won the cup three times, why would people think that?'

Ginny snorted a laugh, and then looked serious. 'So,' she said, 'we should talk.'

'We are.'

'No, I mean...'

'Yeah, I know what you mean; I was joking.'

'Oh right, sorry; I _am_ tired.'

'We can talk tomorrow, if you want?'

'No no, we've put this off for long enough. Let's talk about it tonight and then maybe it won't be weird in the morning.'

'Yeah.'

'Ok then.'

There was an awkward silence for a moment; neither one really sure how to start the conversation.

'You realise, I'm not saying it was bad,' Ginny blurted out. She seemed to be worried about denting Harry's ego.

'Me neither,' he agreed, not wanting to dent hers either. 'Just... it didn't live up to expectations.'

'Yeah, I think we put too much pressure on ourselves.'

'Absolutely. I was talking to Hermione earlier, and she told me that she and Ron just let it happen when it happened. No planning, no worrying, no nervousness.'

'Wait, you're telling me they've done it too?'

'Night before us; went pretty well, apparently.'

'No, I mean, you're _telling_ me?'

'Oh, yeah.'

'Eugh, Harry! That's my brother! I did _not_ need to know that.'

Harry laughed. 'Sorry,' he said between sniggers, 'didn't think what I was saying.'

'So you think it's because we'd planned it?' she said, trying to ignore the thought of Ron and Hermione.

'I suppose it wasn't very spontaneous, was it? Not very romantic.'

Ginny thought for a moment, and nodded. 'Kinda like we were only doing it because we'd agreed to?'

'Exactly. Hagrid said we should just keep things simple; that that's always the easiest way.'

'You told Hagrid?'

'No, not really; he was actually talking about weeding his pumpkin patch at the time, but it seemed like good advice. Hermione said the same.'

Ginny shook her head, slightly bemused by this information. 'So what do you think?' she asked. 'Next time, just let it happen when it happens; let it be spontaneous?'

'Yeah, take the pressure off and not let it worry us.'

'Ok, then I think I should sleep here tonight,' she said, her voice swelling with confidence. 'Just so we get used to sleeping next to each other again, without anything happening.'

Harry smiled. 'That sounds nice.'

'So, tonight, nothing more than kisses,' she said. She got to her feet, and untied the waistband on her dressing gown. Removing it, she revealed that she was wearing a pair of slightly-too-big, buttoned-up, cotton pyjamas.

'I don't think we could if we wanted to,' Harry smirked. 'I'd never be able to get to you through all that!'

Ginny smiled, and rolled her eyes. 'Merlin help me Harry Potter; I have missed you.'

She wrapped her arms around Harry, and they hugged for a few moments, before Harry pulled her face up to his, and gave her a long, gentle kiss.

'I missed you too,' he said, smiling. 'Come on, bed time. You've got to get up early.'

Harry turned out the lights while Ginny pulled back the duvet. They climbed in to bed, cuddled up against each other, and, almost immediately, fell asleep in each other's arms.

x x x

When Harry woke, he found that Ginny was already gone. After rummaging around for his glasses, he found that she'd left him a note saying she'd already gone down to breakfast with the team.

He dressed, and headed down the stairs. When he reached the Entrance Hall, he was greeted by a familiar face.

'Morning,' said Ron brightly. 'Sleep well?'

'Very,' Harry replied. 'When did you get here?'

'Just. Hagrid let me in. You coming for breakfast?'

Ron led the way into the Great Hall, walked along the Gryffindor table, and tapped Hermione on the shoulder.

'This seat taken?' he asked.

'Ron!' she replied, looking up from a dusty old library book. She jumped up, hugged him, and gave him quite a long kiss. Across the hall, a few people wolf-whistled.

Harry (who had followed Ron through the Hall and was now stood, slightly awkwardly, beside them both) looked along the table to wear Ginny was sitting with the Quidditch team. He gave her a small wave; she smiled, and blew him a kiss back.

'Are you two done yet?' said Harry, without looking back at them.

'Yes, you can look,' said Hermione. 'Here, have some bacon.'

Harry took his seat beside them, and seeing that Ron and Hermione were already catching up, he struck up a conversation with Euan Abercrombie who was sitting beside him. Euan however, seemed quite terrified that Harry was talking to him, so Harry politely abandoned their chat, and turned back to Ron and Hermione (Euan looked quite relieved).

'So, who do you fancy for the match?' asked Harry.

'Dunno,' said Ron, 'I don't recognise any of the Slytherin players.' He gestured over to the Slytherin table, where their team was gathered together in their green and silver Quidditch robes.

'Me neither,' said Harry. 'Mind you, I only know Jimmy, Ritchie, Demelza and Ginny on our team.'

'Our new three any good?'

'Ginny didn't seem too thrilled about the Seeker,' said Harry. 'What _are you_ reading Hermione?'

'It's _Dark Groups & Evil Armies_,' she said. 'I got it out of the restricted section last night. Can't find anything about a legion though. I don't think it exists.'

'I told you not to worry about that,' said Harry.

'What's this about?' Ron asked. Harry told him about the prophecy, and showed him the piece of parchment it was written out on.

'What do you mean you don't understand _his gifts are lessened_?' Ron asked, once they'd finished explaining. 'Isn't that obvious?'

'Is it?' said Harry and Hermione together.

'Yeah, you don't have that connection with You Know Who anymore, do you? You can't see inside his head now.'

'That's because he's dead, Ron,' said Harry, sarcastically.

'Ron's got a point though,' said Hermione. 'That was something you could do before, that you can't do now. Have you tried using any of the other abilities you got from him?'

'Like?'

'Can you still speak parseltongue?'

Harry thought about it. 'I don't think I've tried, actually,' he said. 'Haven't really been anywhere with snakes since May.'

'I'll bet that's it then,' said Ron. 'Shame really; that was getting pretty useful.'

They finished breakfast, and headed down to the Quidditch pitch to take their seats, wishing the team luck as they passed them.

Harry had never sat in the stands for a Gryffindor match before. Anytime time he'd previously been unable to play for the team, he'd always found himself in a completely different part of the school.

'Who's commentating?' Harry asked, as he took his seat next to Ron.

'See for yourself,' said Hermione, pointing over to the teachers' box where the commentator usually sat. Harry looked, and to his amusement, could see a large, fabric, lion's head.

'Not very impartial, is it,' said Ron, smiling. 'Bless her.'

The echoing voice of Luna Lovegood filled the stadium as she spoke into the magical megaphone.

'Hello everybody,' she said, 'it's a lovely crisp day today, so look out for Nargles; they love this weather. Anyway, as I'm sure you know, we're here for the first game of the new Quidditch season; Gryffindor versus Slytherin.'

There was a huge cheer from the stadium. There hadn't been any Quidditch matches under the previous year's Death Eater regime, so the students were all excited about the new season. It was apparent that the animosity between Slytherin and the rest of the school had in no-way lessened with Voldemort's downfall; it seemed the majority of the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws were supporting Gryffindor.

'Oh and here come the teams,' said Luna, diverting everyone's attention down to the pitch. 'Here's Gryffindor, led by new captain, Ginny Weasley, who's very nice. With her are Robins, Dawn, Peakes, Coote, Shepherd and Hicksworth.'

There were huge cheers from three sides of the stadium as the Gryffindor team walked out on to the pitch in their red and gold robes.

'And here come the Slytherins, led by their captain, Nigel Vaisey; I don't know him, but Nigel's a nice name. His teammates are Grimstone, Greengrass, Baddock, Pummell, Pritchard and Harper.'

The cheers from the Slytherin stand were not far short of the noise level made by the other three stands put together. Harry watched as Ginny and Vaisey shook hands with Madam Hooch, and then, very briskly, with each other.

'Teams; mount your brooms,' cried Madam Hooch from the pitch. She kicked open the crate that stood by her feet, releasing both Bludgers and the Golden Snitch. She picked up the Quaffle, and held it in her hands, ready to throw it up. 'On my whistle, you may begin.'

There was a moment of silence in the stadium before the whistle ripped through it and the crowd roared as all fourteen players zoomed into the air.

'And Ginny Weasley takes the Quaffle,' said Luna, through the cheers, 'she's flown past Greengrass, and passes to Robins; Robins dodges a Bludger, that's clever of her, and she shoots; Gryffindor score!'

There were more cheers from the Gryffindors, as the Slytherins let out one, collective groan.

'Ok, they're playing again,' Luna continued. 'Vaisey takes the Quaffle for Slytherin; he passes to Greengrass, who passes to Grimstone; ouch! That looked very nasty.'

Ritchie Coote had just sent a Bludger flying at Grimstone, striking him in the back. Madam Hooch blew her whistle to stop play, and Madam Pomfrey ran on to the pitch to check on Grimstone.

'Ooh yeh, that's gunna sting,' said Hagrid, sitting down beside Harry. 'Have I missed much?'

'We're winning,' said Ron, 'ten points to zero, but it's only just started.'

'Kyle Grimstone looks like he's going to be ok,' Luna continued. 'Madam Pomfrey's very good at healing injuries like that.'

'Miss Lovegood,' said Professor Flitwick's squeaky voice from the background of the megaphone, 'focus on the game, my dear.'

'Yes, sorry,' said Luna, 'so, Slytherin back in possession; Vaisey, passes to Grimstone, but intercepted by Jennifer Dawn for Gryffindor; Dawn passes one, passes two, she gives it to Weasley; Ginny Weasley scores! That's nice, isn't it?'

In the stands, Harry, Ron, Hermione and Hagrid were whooping very loudly.

'So Slytherin restart; Greengrass has the Quaffle and, oh my, look at that.'

Slytherin's Seeker, Harper, was tearing across the pitch. Harry followed his eye line, and spotted the Snitch, not far in front of Harper. Hicksworth was chasing after him, but he was too far behind to catch up.

'Ouch again!' said Luna. 'Excellent Bludger work by Jimmy Peakes this time.'

Peakes, having realised that Hicksworth couldn't get to the Snitch before Harper, had made an almighty swing at a passing Bludger, slamming it into the latter's broom handle, sending him off into a spin. Hicksworth had to swerve to avoid him, and in the confusion, the Snitch was gone.

'Weasley has the Quaffle!' said Luna, diverting the crowd, and the players', attention away from the two seekers. 'She scores! Gryffindor are still leading, thirty points to zero.'

The Slytherins in the crowd were beside themselves; either yelling at their Keeper to pay closer attention or at the Seeker to avoid the Bludgers.

'Slytherin have the Quaffle; Captain Nigel Vaisey flies up the pitch; he darts by Weasley and passes to Greengrass; she avoids a Bludger from Peakes, and shoots; Astoria Greengrass has scored for Slytherin. Oh dear...'

'I'd have got that,' Ron grumbled, tutting at the Keeper, 'where did Ginny find this guy?'

'Oh, calm down,' said Hermione, 'he's had nothing else to do; give him a chance.'

'No-one gave me a chance,' Ron muttered, 'when I conceded my first goal, the Slytherins started writing _Weasley is our King_.'

The game raged on. Harry had never known a Hogwarts Quidditch match last longer than about an hour before, but this one appeared to be determined to make it to nightfall; both Seekers unable to bring the game to a close.

At lunchtime, Gryffindor were leading by two hundred and seventy points to a hundred and ten. As nobody wanted to stop watching the match to go and get food, the castle's house elves brought vast trays of sandwiches down from the kitchens, serving them amongst the crowd along with jugs of pumpkin juice. The players were given a time out shortly after, so they too could eat and get a drink.

At eight o'clock, the match was still in full swing, though the players were starting to look tired. The teachers set up illumination charms over the pitch so that everyone, and especially the players, could still see the action.

'This is getting ridiculous,' said Harry, checking his watch. 'We're supposed to be leaving tonight.'

'It can't last that much longer,' said Ron, 'Hogwarts games virtually never last more than a day.'

'I wouldn't count on that,' said a voice behind them. Harry and Ron turned around to see that it was Bill. 'I've just checked with Professor McGonagall,' he said, 'and you're both fine to stay the night. You can leave in the morning.'

'Thanks,' said Harry.

'Where will I sleep?' asked Ron. 'No offence Harry, but I'm not sharing a bed with you.'

'You can have the other guest room,' said Bill, 'it's not in Gryffindor tower; it's for visitors from other schools.'

'Where's that?'

'And Robins scores again for Gryffindor,' said Luna, interrupting. She sounded very hoarse and not at all like her usual, dreamy-voiced self.

'It's on the fifth floor,' said Bill, over the crowd's semi-enthusiastic cheering, 'three doors along from the Prefects' bathroom. The password's "Catweazle".'

'Thanks,' said Ron. Bill nodded, and walked away back to the teachers' box.

'What's the score?' asked Hermione, looking up from her book. Having refused to give up her study time after the third hour of play, Hermione had been summoning her books one by one as the match went on.

'Seven hundred and thirty points to five hundred and ninety,' said Harry.

'So we're still winning?'

'Yes.'

'Good,' she said, returning to her book, 'tell me if something important happens.'

'And Jennifer Dawn takes the Quaffle for Gryffindor,' Luna wheezed.

'Would you like a drink, Miss Lovegood?' asked Professor Flitwick's voice from the background.

'Yes please, that would be lovely, thank you. Now, Dawn passes Vaisey, she's only got Graham Pritchard to beat; she scores! Pritchard looks exhausted.'

'An' he ain't the only one,' muttered Hagrid, with a yawn.

'So, they're off again; oh, thank you Professor,' said Luna, taking a drink from the goblet Professor Flitwick had just handed her. 'Now as I was saying, here's Greengrass for Slytherin; she shoots; saved by Jackson Sheppard for Gryffindor. He gives the Quaffle to Weasley; she's darting up the pitch; dodges one Bludger, now the other; passes Grimstone, she shoots! And she scores! Gryffindor lead Seven hundred and fifty points to five hundred and nin... Oh my! Look at Hicksworth.'

The Gryffindor Seeker was diving towards the Slytherin goalposts, but Harper was closer and had followed suit.

'It's there,' said Harry, pointing to the Snitch, 'by the left post.'

The two Seekers were neck and neck; they both reached out, clawing for the tiny winged ball.

'Come on,' Harry muttered to himself.

But it wasn't to be. Pummell, the Slytherin Beater had smashed a Bludger at Hicksworth, knocking him off his broom and into the grassy pitch below. Fortunately, he had only been a few feet above the ground, so he rolled safely across the turf. However...

'He's got it!' said Luna, sounding both relieved and disappointed. 'Darren Harper catches the Snitch for Slytherin, but Gryffindor win the match. Seven hundred and fifty points to seven hundred and forty.'

There was an astronomical sound explosion. The Gryffindors cheered, whooped, and clapped for their team's victory. The Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws cheered, mostly delighted that the match was finally over. The Slytherins, however, were booing their own seeker; apparently annoyed that he'd caught the Snitch when they were too far behind to win.

'Ginny scored the winner!' said Ron.

'I know,' said Harry, 'bet she's delighted!'

Professor Flitwick's voice boomed across the stadium as he took the megaphone from Luna. 'Up to the Great Hall for dinner please, as quickly as possible.'

'Come on,' said Harry, 'I'm starving.'

x x x

When they arrived in the Great Hall, Harry sat down across from Ron and Hermione, saving the seat beside him for Ginny. When the team eventually arrived in the hall (still in their Quidditch robes), there was another round of applause from the Gryffindor table.

Ginny took her seat beside Harry, and let out a long sigh.

'Well,' she said, 'that went on a bit, didn't it?'

'You could say that,' Harry grinned. 'Congratulations though; you got the winning goal.'

'Luckily,' she said. 'I can't believe how bad the Seekers were. One or the other I could understand, but both?'

Harry smiled and kissed her on the cheek. 'Have a pork chop,' he said, sliding a silver platter towards her. 'You must be starving.'

'Thanks.'

To Harry's surprise and amusement, Ginny lifted three chops on to her plate, and started eating without serving herself anything to go with them.

'Yeah,' said Harry, 'who needs vegetables?'

Ginny slapped him playfully, across the shoulder.

Harry, Ron and Ginny sat talking about the match for an hour (Hermione had a new book propped open against the water jug), interrupted every so often by Gryffindors coming over to congratulate Ginny on the victory.

'Right,' said Ginny, when she had finished her dessert. 'I'm going up to wash and change; I'm sick of these robes.'

'Are you going straight to bed after?' asked Harry.

'Maybe,' she replied. 'I'm not feeling very tired, but I think it might just be adrenaline.'

'I'll stay up for a bit then,' said Harry, 'I'll probably be in my room if you want to talk or whatever.'

'Ok,' she said, a twinkle in her eyes. Harry watched her leave the Hall, and turned back to Ron and Hermione.

'What?' he asked, seeing Hermione's beaming face.

'You patched things up then, I take it?'

'Patched things up?' said Ron, looking up from his profiteroles. 'When were they unpatched?'

'Oh Ron,' she said, 'don't you notice anything?'

'I'll see you in the morning,' said Harry, deciding this was a good moment to leave. 'Have a, erm... _good_ night, you two.'

As he walked towards the door, he caught sight of Luna at the Ravenclaw table.

'Hey Luna, nice commentary.'

'Oh, thank you Harry,' she said, 'that's very sweet.' Her voice sounded better, and Harry noticed there was a goblet of turquoise potion on the table in front of her. 'Are you staying long?'

'No, I leave in the morning,' he said. 'I've got to get back to work.'

'Oh well, be safe. Carry a pair of earmuffs with you; it's Wrackspurt season, and I wouldn't want your brain going fuzzy on a mission.'

'Er, thanks. I'll see you soon, ok?'

'I hope so. Perhaps at Christmas.'

Harry said goodbye to Luna, left the Great Hall, and decided to make a detour past the library before heading back up to Gryffindor Tower.

'Mr Potter,' said Madam Pince, as she opened the door to him. 'Very late for reading, isn't it?'

'Yes, sorry, I was just wondering, do you know where I could find a book about groups of dark wizards?'

'Is this light reading, or Auror business?'

Harry considered the question, technically, it was neither, but he knew she wouldn't accept that. 'Both,' he said, instead.

'I see; one moment.' She disappeared amongst the shelves for a few minutes, and came back with two books; _Sinister Allies_ and _Dark Duos & Corrupt Circles_.

'Try these,' she said, 'but they're not to leave the castle, so I'll need them back before you go.'

'Thanks very much,' said Harry, and set off for Gryffindor Tower.

'Bowtruckle eggs,' he said, when he reached the Fat Lady's Portrait.

'Same to you dear,' she replied, swinging forwards to let him in.

He clambered through the portrait hole, and climbed the stairs that led to the boys' dormitories.

When he reached his room, he stretched his back, stiff as he was from sitting all day. Deciding that he may as well get ready for bed, Harry pulled off his t-shirt, and untied his shoes. There was a knock at the door.

'Come in,' said Harry, still fiddling with his laces. As the door opened, he looked up to see who it was.

'Oh,' he said, 'it's you.'

'You keep saying that,' said Ginny. She was standing in the doorway, a soft but determined look in her eye, and a black satin night gown wrapped around her body, held with a sash. She was without her slippers this time, and Harry could tell from her bare legs that she wasn't wearing the cotton pyjamas either. A second later, the sash was untied, and a glimpse of her underwear had driven the pyjamas from his mind.

Before Harry knew it, she was across the room, and her lips were on his. The kiss was incredible; soft and tender, but exhilarating and passionate. Harry felt like the room was spinning around him. He could feel the warmth of her hands running through his hair and over his back; the soft, silkiness of her gown against his chest. For a few moments, he could hear no other sound than her gentle breathing.

'I've been thinking,' she said eventually, only parting from his lips enough so as she could speak, 'and I've decided, that I'd like to be spontaneous tonight.'

Harry grinned, and tangled his fingers into her hair. 'I take it you're not tired then.'

'Not even a little,' she replied.

With his arms wrapped around her, he lifted her off the floor, and together, they fell backwards on to the bed.


	7. Chapter 7: Flight of the Phoenix

**Chapter 7 – Flight of the Phoenix**

As the rain of November froze into the snow of December, festivity fell over the Ministry of Magic. If there was one thing Harry hadn't expected about working in the Aurors' Office, it was that the build up to Christmas was even more impressive than at Hogwarts.

The Atrium was filled with extravagant Christmas trees, a canopy of tinsel was draped over the fountain of magical brethren, and even the inter-departmental memos were bewitched to look like little Father Christmases riding broomsticks. Every Ministry employee was looking forward to the first Voldemort-free Christmas in years, and it was a joyfulness that Harry was more than a little swept up in.

The night after the Quidditch match had been much more of a success for Harry and Ginny, and as such, he was the happiest he had been for years. Their letters had become less distant, and they had met up twice since, during Ginny's Hogsmeade visits.

Work too was becoming more and more rewarding; Harry and Ron's reputations were continuing to grow after their dealing with a vampire's attack on Hereford at the end of November.

The only distraction from his happiness came each night, just as he was drifting off to sleep, when the words of Professor Trelawney's prophecy would drift through his head.

Harry and Ron were no closer to deciphering its meaning, and the frequent owls from Hermione to say she still hadn't found anything either were of little help.

'Will you tell her to concentrate on her school work?' said Harry, when the latest of these letters arrived in the office one afternoon.

'I have been,' said Ron, 'I keep telling her, but I think she misses our adventures.'

Neville got up from his desk, and dropped another letter down in front of Harry.

'This one's for you, Harry,' he said. 'Sorry I opened it, but the envelope was only addressed to the Aurors' Office.'

'Thanks Neville,' said Harry, picking up the letter and dropping it on the top of his in-tray, before returning to his paperwork. 'I'll read it when I've finished these reports.'

Neville didn't move. 'I'd actually read it now,' he urged. 'It's from Ollivander.'

Harry looked up from his desk, and saw the anxious look on Neville's face. 'What's up?' he asked.

'Read the letter,' Neville repeated. Harry did as he was told, and Ron got up from his desk; walking around to read the letter over Harry's shoulder.

_Dear Mr Potter,_

_Terribly sorry to bother you, but it seems I have been the victim of a burglary._

_As you may know, I am the owner of several domesticated phoenixes, __which provide me with most of the tail-feathers I use for my wands. Three of these phoenixes were stolen from my shop yesterday evening._

_Unfortunately, I have no idea as to __who would be capable of such a crime; as I'm sure you're aware, phoenixes are very powerful creatures, proficient in their own form of Apparition. To actually capture a domesticated one, such as my own, and prevent its escape would suggest very great, very dark magic._

_If you would be able to__, could you come by the shop and search for clues as soon as possible; I am trying to leave the scene as I found it._

_Regards,_

_Garrick Ollivander_

_Ollivander__'s Wand Shop_

Harry had stood up before he'd even finished reading.

'Are you coming?' he asked Ron, as he picked up his cloak and scarf from the back of his chair and wrapped them around himself.

'Obviously,' said Ron, taking his own cloak from a peg on the wall. 'Anything for a break from this paperwork.'

Harry strode over to the fireplace, took a pinch of green dust from a pot on the mantel, and stepped into the grate.

'Diagon Alley,' he said, clearly.

In a cloud of soot and a burst of green flame, Harry felt himself whooshing past all the different wizarding fireplaces between the Ministry and his destination. Finally, he stepped over the hearth in The Leaky Cauldron, clearing the way for Ron.

Once he too had stepped out of the fireplace, they wished Tom a Merry Christmas, and headed out through the pub's back door.

Considering it was so close to Christmas, Diagon Alley was relatively quiet for a weekday afternoon, so Harry and Ron could stroll down the street with ease, doing some quick window shopping as they went. As they past Flourish and Blotts, numerous familiar faces smiled out at them from the window. Harry was actually a few steps past the shop when he realised what he'd just seen, and walked back on himself for a second look.

There he was, on the cover of every book in the shop window; his golden blonde hair bouncing atop his head as he struck different poses; his brilliant white teeth shining out, seemingly magnified through the glass. Each book was the same, and there was a banner over them that read, "Just in time for Christmas; the perfect gift for that special witch in your life!"

Harry leaned into the glass to closer inspect the book title.

_My Road t__o Recovery: A Tale of Adventure, Danger, and Personal Regrowth_

_by Gilderoy Lockhart_

'Oh no...' Harry sighed. 'What nonsense is he peddling now?'

Ron, who had waited ahead while Harry had gone back to the window, walked back over to see what was so annoying.

'Oh no,' Ron echoed, when he reached the window. 'Not that idiot again.'

'I didn't even know he'd recovered,' Harry grumbled. 'I haven't heard anything of him since we were at St Mungo's that time.'

'Me neither,' said Ron. 'Annoyingly, we should probably buy his bloody book. Make sure he hasn't tried to rewrite history.'

Harry sighed. 'You're probably right,' he said. 'Come on, we'll pick up a copy on the way back from Ollivander's.

They continued up the street, until they reached the wand shop, and stepped inside. It seemed to be deserted.

'Hello?' Harry called out. 'Mr Ollivander?'

'Ah!' said Mr Ollivander's voice. 'Is that you, Mr Potter?'

'Yes, and Ron too.'

The white-haired, silver-eyed old wizard emerged from the shelves, almost gliding over the shop floor. He looked to be in much better shape than he had when Harry had last seen him at Shell Cottage.

'Thank you for coming,' said Mr Ollivander, shaking both of their hands. 'I was expecting to see you a bit sooner, actually, Mr Potter; I thought you'd be in need of a new wand.'

'Nope, still got this one,' said Harry, holding it up. Mr Ollivander seemed taken aback.

'But that wand was damaged! Irreparably so; I saw it myself.'

'I... well, I found a way to mend it.'

'The Elder Wand?'

'Yes.'

'Fascinating,' said Mr Ollivander, in the soft, distant voice Harry had heard him use before. 'And you Mr Weasley, is your wand still in good shape? Fourteen inches, willow and unicorn hair, if I remember correctly.'

'Yes, still good,' said Ron, holding it up to the wandmaker. 'I lost it for a while; it was taken from me during the war, but I managed to retrieve it a few months ago.'

'Did you?' said Harry. He'd only just realised that the wand Ron was holding had indeed been taken from him by the Snatchers, prior to their imprisonment at Malfoy Manor.

'Sort of,' Ron muttered. 'Malfoy returned it to me at Snape's funeral.'

Harry was just about to respond, when Mr Ollivander cut across them.

'Anyway,' he interrupted. 'Would you like to come through?'

He led the way between the shelves, out into a large workroom behind the shop, the door to which had been blasted open. Harry gasped as they entered, his eyes darting around the room, trying to take everything in.

On one side of the room was a lathe (magically turning itself), used by Ollivander to shape his wands. Next to that was a workbench, with various tools and pieces of sandpaper strewn across it. Above the worktop was a shelf covered in narrow phials, each individually labelled and filled with one of three items; the silvery threads of unicorn tail-hairs, the pink fleshy gloop of dragon heartstrings, or the brilliant gold and red quills of phoenix feathers. However, the most intriguing thing stood on the far side of the room.

Six, pewter bird-stands were lined up by the wall (the seventh appeared to have been knocked to the floor), upon four of which sat four large phoenixes.

'As you can see,' said Mr Ollivander, 'three of my birds are missing.'

'Wow,' said Ron, 'I've never seen so many at once before.'

'I should think not; for centuries the Ollivanders have owned the largest flock of domesticated phoenixes in Europe.'

'How long have you had them?' asked Harry.

'Well, Barnaby there,' said Mr Ollivander, pointing to the phoenix on the left stand, 'he's been in the family for nearly three hundred years. My newest I've only had for a fortnight, but alas, she's one of the missing; I hadn't even named her yet.'

'She?' said Ron, sounding surprised.

'Is that unusual?' asked Harry.

'Certainly it is,' Mr Ollivander replied. 'Female phoenixes are terribly rare creatures; for centuries they were believed not to exist at all. As soon as I heard rumour of another having been discovered, I sought to acquire her immediately.'

As had often happened in the past, Harry found himself feeling quite uncomfortable in Mr Ollivander's presence. His phrasing; his need to acquire the new phoenix; his attraction to the unusual: they were the same magpie-like tendencies Voldemort had displayed when selecting his horcruxes.

'I would theorise,' Mr Ollivander continued, 'that the nuances of a female phoenix will be most fascinating in terms of wandmaking. I was looking forward to studying the results, but alas, now I may never know.'

Harry crouched down beside the bird stands to inspect the floor. There were no loose feathers on the floor or sign of the phoenixes being forcibly taken. He got back to his feet, and looked at the oldest Phoenix, Barnaby, who was watching them with interest. Despite how often the workroom must have been used, Harry was struck by how tidy it was, and he wondered whether Mr Ollivander had a house-elf.

An idea forced its way to the front of Harry's brain, fully formed, as though it had been there all along; waiting patiently in a queue.

'Mr Ollivander, do you own a Pensieve?'

'No, I'm afraid I don't; I believe they're currently for sale at Wiseacre's Wizarding Equipment up the alley, though. Why?'

'What's up?' asked Ron.

'You remember that Dumbledore had collected memories about Voldemort?' said Harry.

'Yeah.'

'One of them was from a house-elf called Hokey.'

'So?'

'So, you can take memories from non-human beings.'

Harry saw Ron's expression change as the penny dropped; his gaze shot over to the four phoenixes watching them from across the room.

'Ohhhhhhh,' he said, 'y'know, that might just work, mate.'

'What?' asked Mr Ollivander, clearly confused. 'What might work?'

'We're going to take a memory of last night from one of the other phoenixes, and then view it in a Pensieve to see what happened.'

Mr Ollivander looked quite surprised. 'That's very clever, gentlemen,' he said. He reached up to the shelf above his bench, grabbed an empty glass phial, and gave it to Harry. 'You'll need this.'

Harry approached Barnaby again, who stared back at him.

'I need one of your memories,' Harry muttered, feeling slightly silly for talking to the bird. 'Can you show me what happened last night?'

Barnaby stared at him for a few more moments, unblinking, before his head jerked back and forth in an unmistakable nod. Harry withdrew his wand, and touched it to the side of the phoenix's head. When he pulled it back, to his delight, there was indeed a silver thread attached to the end of it. He poured the memory into the phial, and smiled at the bird.

'Thanks,' Harry muttered. 'Right,' he said, turning back to Mr Ollivander, 'we'd better be off. We'll keep you posted with what we find out.'

'Oh, I see,' Mr Ollivander replied. 'Very well, Mr Potter, Mr Weasley; thank you for your help.'

x x x

Back at the office, Harry placed Lockhart's book and a newly-purchased Pensieve basin down on his desk. Some old words of Dumbledore's had occurred to him in the shop; _to the well organised mind, death is but the next great adventure._ Considering this to be good advice for an Auror (and feeling that his own mind would benefit from a little organisation), rather than borrow it from the shop, he had decided that it would be wise to purchase one for himself.

He removed the phial from his jacket pocket, and poured Barnaby's memory into the silvery substance, watching for a moment as it swirled around in the bottom of the basin.

'Do you want to see as well?' Harry asked Ron, who was stood watching at the side of the desk.

'Yeah, I've never done this before.'

'Ok, follow me in.'

Harry leant into the bowl, and felt the familiar falling sensation as his face broke the surface.

The scene of Ollivander's workroom started to form, and a moment later, Ron was standing beside him.

'This is weird,' said Ron, looking around.

The room was exactly the same as it had been when they were there in person, except now, all seven stands were stood upright, and a phoenix was perched atop each of them. The door was also back in its frame.

'Now what?' asked Ron.

'I don't know,' said Harry, 'most memories I've been in before have started straight away.' He looked over his shoulder to check the phoenixes were moving. They were. 'I don't think we're stuck; maybe Barnaby's just given us more than we need.'

Nothing continued to happen, so Harry inspected the three, currently missing, phoenixes. The female had three silver feathers at the tip of each wing, and was slightly smaller than the six males. Her perch was on the end of the row, and she was sitting on it as far apart from the others as possible.

There was a loud crash behind him, and Harry spun around. There, in the doorway, his blonde hair wild and a mad glimmer in his eye, was Yaxley. He had obviously just blasted the door open, as his wand was in his hand.

The seven phoenixes had started cawing in anger, though, as was typical of their species, even this sound was quite beautiful.

'You're joking,' said Ron, as he watched Yaxley turn his wand on the female phoenix.

'Stupefy,' Yaxley bellowed. An immensely powerful stunning spell knocked the bird from her perch, and she struck the floor. A smile broke over Yaxley's face, but it didn't last long as he realised his error.

The other six phoenixes flew from their perches, and started circling Yaxley, pecking at him wherever they could.

'Get. Off. Me,' he growled angrily; wand raised. 'Stupefy! Stupefy!'

Two more of the birds fell to the workroom floor. Harry glanced at Ron, who looked revolted.

'Sick git,' he muttered.

'Immobulus!' Yaxley screamed. The four remaining phoenixes froze, still floating in mid-air, but no longer flapping their wings. Yaxley swooped down on the floor, pulling the three stunned birds towards him. He waved his wand over them, muttering incantations too quietly for Harry and Ron to hear.

'What's he doing?' asked Ron.

'If I had to guess,' Harry replied, 'I'd say he was placing Anti-Disapparition Jinxes on them.'

Yaxley scooped all three birds into a hessian sack, and strode from the room, a look of triumph on his face. Harry and Ron looked at each other, outraged and determined, as the workroom started to melt away around them, and they found themselves standing in the Aurors' Office once again.

'Ok,' said Ron, 'so it's Yaxley. Now what do we do?'

'It's obvious isn't it?' said Neville's voice from behind a stack of books on his desk. 'Phoenixes carry a level four Ministry classification.'

'So?' said Harry. He was pleased to see that Ron too was looking confused.

Neville sighed. 'Tell them, Eric,' he said.

'Neville's right,' said Proudfoot, who was standing in the doorway of his office. 'The Muggle Protection Act of 1992 states that all magical creatures classified as level four and above have to be traced.'

'They're not?' said Ron, delight spreading across his face.

'They are,' said Neville. 'Go down to the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, and they'll find him for you in minutes.'

Harry and Ron grinned at each other.

'I don't believe it,' said Harry.

'I know,' said Ron. 'Yaxley's made a massive mistake.'

'We've got him!' Harry let out a laugh. 'Come on; let's find out where he is.'

x x x

It was now dusk, and there was snow on the ground in Oswaldtwistle. A faint popping sound broke through the quiet winter countryside as two cloaked figures appeared, several feet apart, in front of a rundown old cottage.

'Stabilisium!' muttered Harry, pointing his wand at the building.

'You done it?' asked Ron.

'Yeah, no-one's Disapparating out of there now. Did you do the Silencing Charm for the muggles?'

'Yeah.'

'Ok, let's go.'

Silently, they walked up the garden path together, wands drawn.

'Ready?' asked Harry.

'When you are,' said Ron.

Harry pointed his wand at the door. 'Bombarda!' he said.

The door burst open and immediately a jet of green light fired past them. Yaxley was stood in the hallway, having seen them coming.

Immediately, Harry and Ron were on the defensive; not even able to set foot inside the cottage. Yaxley fought them out into the garden.

Harry drew the Hawthorn wand from his belt, and thought of the Firestorm spell. Flame burst from the tip of each wand, and Harry directed it in a helix around Yaxley, enveloping the Death Eater in flame.

'Protego!' shouted Ron. A purple light had burst through the fire, and he'd only just managed to shield himself; the curse had grazed him across the arm though, tearing away his sleeve.

A wave of water burst through the flames, extinguishing Harry's spell, and leaving Yaxley stood between the two Aurors, slightly singed.

It was clear Yaxley was a master of non-verbal spells, as jet after jet of different coloured light erupted from his wand tip, alternately blasting at Harry and Ron.

'Protego! Protego! Protego!' Harry repeated, defending himself from the onslaught. He returned the Hawthorn wand to his belt; he needed to focus if he and Ron were to win the duel. Yaxley had turned on Ron once again, and Harry seized his chance. 'Expelliarmus!'

The charm struck Yaxley square in the back; so powerful was Harry's spell that the usual jet of red light shot out crimson. Yaxley was thrown from his feet, crashing into the garden wall, as his wand spun up on to the cottage roof, and out of sight.

'Bloody hell, Harry,' said Ron, 'do you want to bellow any louder?'

'Did the job, didn't it? Get his wand, and check inside for the phoenixes.'

'What are you going to do?'

'I'm going to find out _why_.'

Ron nodded, and summoned Yaxley's wand from the roof with a wave of his own, before disappearing into the cottage. Harry paced over to Yaxley, and rolled the Death Eater on to his back. Blood was trickling from a cut on his forehead, and his nose appeared to be broken.

'Can you speak?' asked Harry, taking him by the scruff of the robes and propping him up against the wall.

'Yes, Potter, I can speak,' Yaxley spat, fury spread across his face.

'Good,' Harry replied, coolly. 'Now, tell me, why did you take the phoenixes?'

Yaxley laughed, spluttering up blood as his did so. 'Why do you think?' he asked. 'For the tears, of course; for the tears.'

'What for?' Harry pressed. 'You weren't hurt 'til we got here, why did you need them?'

Yaxley's expression changed, and Harry saw something that looked like fear flick across his eyes. Harry crouched low over the Death Eater so their faces were just inches apart.

'Protection,' said Yaxley. 'Against the Legion.'

Harry grabbed the neck of Yaxley's robes again. 'What _is_ the Legion?' he asked. 'Tell me.'

The fear had taken hold of Yaxley now, and when he spoke again, each word was very deliberate.

'I went to find her,' he said, 'I offered her my services, but followers are not what she desires.'

'What does she want?' asked Harry. 'Who is she?'

Yaxley smiled, but it was entirely joyless; bordering on psychotic.

'It's almost funny, Potter,' he said, 'you've got no idea what's coming.'

'I've found them,' Ron called, stepping out of the cottage. Momentarily distracted, Harry felt a tug on his belt. Before Harry could stop him, Yaxley had raised the Hawthorn wand to his own throat.

With a last, terrified smile, he muttered two words; '_Avada Kedavra_'. With a flash of green light, the last Death Eater was dead.

Harry couldn't believe it. He stared round at Ron, to see him also looking dumbstruck.

'Why?' said Ron, after a long silence. 'Why the hell would he do that?'

'I think,' said Harry, picking up the Hawthorn wand and returning it to his belt, 'the question is, what could've scared him enough to do that?'

Ron swore, stared at Harry for a few moments, and swore again.

'Are you ok?' said Harry, nodding at Ron's arm.

'Huh? Oh, yeah, stings a bit though.'

'Where are the phoenixes?'

'In here.' Ron led Harry through the cottage, into a small room, where the three phoenixes were sitting on stands, chained at the leg. There was a roaring fire in the grate, and a bowl filled with clear fluid on the mantel.

'What that?' asked Ron, pointing to the bowl.

'I know,' said Harry, 'give me your arm.'

Ron did as he was told and held the grazed arm out. Harry scooped up some of the liquid with his hand, and sprinkled it on Ron's raw flesh. The skin steamed a little, but when it cleared, the graze had healed.

'Phoenix tears?' asked Ron.

'Yeah, Yaxley said he needed them for protection against the Legion.'

'Why?'

'Didn't say.'

'What an unhelpful little git.'

'Come on, let's free these.' Harry pointed his wand at the chain bound to the female's leg, and muttered 'Alohamora'. The lock clicked open, and the chain fell free. Ron did the same for the other two.

The female phoenix was staring at Harry with a look of what seemed like curiosity. She then shifted her gaze to his wand, and cooed. With a flap of her wings, she had left her perch, and settled herself on Harry's shoulder.

'Looks like you've made a friend,' said Ron.

'Yeah, don't know why,' Harry replied. 'Have you removed the Anti-Disapparition Jinxes?'

'Oh, hang on.' Ron flicked his wand at each phoenix, muttering 'Libertasium'. The two male phoenixes, swelled up to their full height, spread their wings, and disapparated in a flash of fire. The female remained sat on Harry's shoulder.

'Do you not want to go too?' Harry said, looking at the phoenix.

'We need to go ourselves,' said Ron. 'We've got to do clean up before the muggles see the mess out there.'

'Ok, you go back to the office, turn in Yaxley's wand, and get a clean-up team; I'll take this one back to Ollivander.'

'Yeah, I'll meet you back at the office later.'

Harry flicked his wand at the cottage wall, muttering 'Libertasium' as he did so, and with a faint pop, Ron disapparated.

Harry walked back out to the front garden, where Yaxley's lifeless body was still slumped against the garden wall, just as Savage Apparated on to the lawn.

Savage was only about four years older than Harry, and was surprisingly laid back for an Auror. He wore his blonde hair long, and held it back with a band. Harry often thought of him as someone who would enjoy surfing if wizards were ever to take it up.

'Hey Nicky,' said Harry. 'Ron send you?'

'Yeah, he said you got... Whoa,' said Savage, looking around at the damaged garden; his eyes finally settling on Yaxley's body. 'Good work, dude.'

'I've got to go,' said Harry, 'I have to return this phoenix to Ollivander. Can you hang around for the clean-up team?'

'Yeah, yeah, no worries.'

Harry placed a firm hand around the phoenix's leg, and disapparated, reappearing outside Ollivander's shop. Mr Ollivander must have seen him Apparate, because the door flew open, and he ran out into the street.

'Mr Potter, how can I ever thank you?' he said, rigorously shaking Harry's hand. 'Come in, come in, the other two are already back.'

Harry stepped into the shop, and was led through the shelves once again to the back room. Ollivander's six male phoenixes were sitting on their perches again, with the seventh standing empty on the end.

'Go on,' said Harry to the female, 'you can go now.' But she wouldn't leave his shoulder.

'Ah,' said Mr Ollivander, watching carefully. 'It seems she has bonded with you, Mr Potter.'

'Has she? How did that happen?'

'Tell me, at any point since you found her, has she shown any interest in your wand?'

Harry thought for a moment, and realised that she had. 'Yes,' he said, 'she was looking at it just before she sat on my shoulder.'

'Ah,' Mr Ollivander repeated. 'Well, I should've known that would happen. It seems she is yours now.'

'What? I can't take her from you.'

'Oh, but you must! She has sensed the core of your wand; she recognises its feather.'

'How can she do that?'

'Simple. The feather that resides in _your_ wand came from _her_ father. She recognises the familial link.'

'Fawkes is her father?'

'Yes indeed; Hagrid found her just outside Hogsmeade. As I told you this morning, as soon as I heard, I sent him an owl asking if I could have her.'

'But I can't just take her from you,' Harry repeated.

'Certainly you can, Mr Potter. How do you think Dumbledore came to have Fawkes? They're remarkable creatures phoenixes; incredibly loyal once they're domesticated.'

'I know,' said Harry. 'Dumbledore told me so when I first met Fawkes.'

'Did he, indeed? Well, I can tell you that _this one_ is now loyal to _you_. All I ask is that you allow me to take a tail-feather from her once a year for wandmaking.'

Harry looked at the bird, who chirped happily on his shoulder. Apparently, she had been listening to the conversation throughout.

'Ok,' said Harry, 'if you're sure, I'd be delighted to take her.'

'Splendid,' said Mr Ollivander, shaking Harry's hand again. 'Excellent pet for an Auror, don't you know? Very useful in dangerous situations.'

Harry smiled, and stroked the bird's stomach. She, affectionately, nipped his ear with her beak.

'Oh, by the way,' said Harry, withdrawing the Hawthorn wand from the holster on his belt. 'Can you confirm the allegiance of this wand for me?'

Ollivander inspected the wand, and gasped. 'This wand has known very dark magic,' he said, 'but it appears its allegiance remains with you. Why do you ask?'

'It was snatched from my belt by a Death Eater; he killed himself with it.'

Mr Ollivander raised his eyebrows. 'Mr Yaxley?'

'Yes.'

'I see. Well, as you weren't holding it at the time, I do not believe that such an action was enough for him to win it from you.'

Harry sighed with relief; if the Hawthorn wand was still his, the Elder Wand's allegiance had not changed either.

'Harry, you were supposed to take her back,' said Ron, when Harry returned to the office half an hour later with the phoenix still sitting on his shoulder. 'What's all that for?'

Harry placed a large bird stand down beside his desk (it had a bowl beneath the perch to catch the phoenix-ashes on burning days), and dropped a book on to his desk, called _Befriending the Flame: the Phoenix Owner's Manual._

'Everything go ok with the clean-up?' Harry asked, distracted.

'Yeah fine,' Ron replied. 'Yaxley's body's been taken down to the Death Chamber. Seriously, why have you still got the bird?'

'Ollivander gave her to me,' he said, 'I picked up the book and stand while I was in the Alley.'

'Why'd he do that?'

Harry explained what Ollivander had said, how she was Fawkes' daughter; how she had bonded with Harry because of his wand's core, and how she was now loyal to him.

'Cool,' said Ron, when Harry had finished. 'With her tears, on missions it'll be like having our very own Healer.'

'Tears!' said Harry, suddenly, realising what he'd forgotten amongst everything else. '_When the lost bird cries_! There was a bowl full of their tears in the cottage! That's it; that's the next bit. The phoenixes were lost, and they'd cried into the bowl.'

Ron's mouth fell open. 'I guess we'll be finding out what the legion is soon, then,' he said.

'Looks like it.'

They sat in silence for a moment, contemplating the imminent danger.

'So,' said Ron, 'what are you going to call her?' He nodded to the phoenix, who was now sitting atop her new perch.

'Oh, I was thinking that, since her father belonged to Dumbledore, I'd call her Ariana.'

'That's nice,' said Ron, picking up some papers from his in-tray, and shuffling them together. 'I think he'd have liked that.'

'What do you think?' Harry asked, turning to the bird. She cooed again, and fluttered her wings. 'Good, Ariana it is then.'


	8. Chapter 8: The Dark Force Defence League

**Chapter 8 – The Dark Force Defence League**

_LAST DEATH EATER DEAD_

_This morning, t__he Ministry of Magic confirmed rumours that the last undetained Death Eater, Markus Yaxley (Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement during the reign of He Who Must Not Be Named), committed suicide following a standoff with two members of the Aurors' Office._

'_We can confirm __Mr Yaxley committed suicide by way of the killing curse, and his body has been placed in the Death Chamber within the Department of Mysteries,' said Eric Proudfoot, acting-Head Auror. 'But no, I'm not telling you which of our Aurors was present on the scene. We have to have some operational secrets, don't we?'_

_D__espite the Aurors' Office refusal to confirm them, rumours continue to circulate that the two Ministry members present were Harry Potter (OoM 1c) and Ron Weasley. If these prove to be true, this would be a second major victory for the Aurors' Office since Mr Potter and Mr Weasley were recruited back in June..._

Despite nobody confirming such rumours to the Daily Prophet, it was common knowledge within the Ministry (and therefore within the rest of the wizarding world) that it was indeed Harry and Ron who had confronted Yaxley. However, despite the plaudits they had received for their work and the excitement that came with the last Death Eater's demise, Harry had already moved on to other matters of concern.

'That lying bastard,' he burst out, angrily banging his fist down on the page of his book.

It was Christmas Eve; Hermione and Ginny were home for the holidays (mainly so they could spend time with Harry and Ron), and so they were all at The Burrow, killing time as Mrs Weasley put the finishing touches to their evening meal (the Brussels Sprouts for the following day were peeling and crossing themselves in the sink).

'Where are you up to?' asked Hermione, calmly looking up from her own copy. Gilderoy Lockhart's book had been the source of much contention ever since Hermione and Ginny had got home. Ron had been very annoyed when Hermione had insisted on buying one for herself, rather than just borrowing Harry's and 'not giving that smarmy git the satisfaction of another sale'. Hermione had ignored this, and told Ron not to take things so personally.

She was already several chapters ahead of Harry, despite the fact he'd had the book for almost a fortnight longer.

Harry read out the offending passage. '_I'm proud to say that I was Hogwarts' most successful Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher of recent years, achieving a 100% pass-rate for all of my students._'

Hermione tutted. 'I know,' she said, 'he does rather skip over the bit where the exams were cancelled, doesn't he?'

'So of course everyone passed,' Ron grumbled, 'it just had sod all to do with him.'

'He's trying to suggest he was better than Remus,' said Hermione.

'Does this means you're over him now?' Ron added.

'Why would I need him when I've got you?' she replied, and Harry was _almost_ certain that she was being sincere.

'Are you lot still reading that rubbish?' said Ginny, walking into the living room. 'Have you even found anything that's true yet?'

'Oh yes,' said Harry. 'Lockhart was definitely the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher from 1992 to 1993.'

'Yes,' said Hermione, 'and his lesson on Cornish Pixies was certainly "unforgettable".'

'Yes,' said Ron, 'and it was definitely an accident involving a student's malfunctioning wand that resulted in his hospitalisation. _Definitely_.'

Ginny laughed. 'But other than that?'

'Total bollocks,' said Harry, flatly.

'Dinner's ready,' called Mrs Weasley.

It was busy in the Weasley kitchen that evening. Charlie was back from Romania for Christmas, and he, Bill, Fleur, Percy, Audrey, George, Ron, Hermione, Harry, Ginny and Mr and Mrs Weasley were all packed in together around the table.

Any belief that Mrs Weasley _used_ to cook a lot of food for family get-togethers had been blown out of the water by this meal. Mr Weasley's promotion to Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and subsequent pay rise (coupled with the fact that Ginny was the only Weasley child still living at home) meant that the Weasleys had much more to go around than they'd once had. Therefore, Mrs Weasley was taking the opportunity to feed up her boys while she had them in the house.

'Harry, Ron, have some more,' she said, serving three more steaks on to each of their plates. 'You've been working hard lately, and I can tell you've not been having proper lunches. George, you too...'

'Blimey,' Ron muttered to Harry, 'if this is tonight, just think what Christmas dinner will be like tomorrow...'

Harry grinned, and skewered a juicy piece of steak on to his fork.

Several conversations were buzzing up and down the table, and it wasn't long before the subject of Quidditch came up.

'So Gin,' said Charlie, from across the table, 'how's the team looking? I heard about the, er... "issues", with the Slytherin game.'

'Oh, I've found a new Seeker,' she replied, brightly.

'Have you?' said Harry, quite surprised.

'Yeah, did I forget to tell you? Found him a couple of days after the last match.'

'Where did you get him?' asked Charlie.

'Well, after watching Stanley, it seemed that a lot of people felt they could do better. In fact, there was so much interest; I had to hold trials again!'

'Seriously?' asked Harry.

'Absolutely; turns out, while they all still think you two are hard acts to follow, they've got no concerns about following Stanley at all.'

Harry and Charlie both smirked, as Ginny ate a large forkful of mash potato.

'So who'd you get?' asked Harry.

'Dennis Creevey.'

'Really?'

'Yeah, he's pretty good actually. Plus, I think he likes having something to focus on. You know, since Colin...'

There was a brief pause, as all three of them thought sadly of Colin's death during the Battle of Hogwarts.

'So,' said Charlie, after a moment, 'you like your chances for the cup then?'

After the meal (and the Exploding Snap tournament that followed), Mrs Weasley sent everyone off to bed so she could finish preparing the house for Christmas morning.

Due to The Burrow's unusually high number of residents, much room swapping had gone on. Bill and Fleur were in his and Charlie's old room, meaning Charlie was sharing with George. Percy and Audrey were in Percy's room, meaning Harry was back in with Ron, and Hermione was back in with Ginny. The last two pairings had been the cause of a small argument.

'Why can't Harry stay in with me?' asked Ginny.

'Yeah, and why can't Hermione stay in with me?' asked Ron.

'Because it's not appropriate,' said Mrs Weasley, more than a little flustered.

Harry and Hermione had decided to stay as far out of this argument as it was possible for them to do, so they were listening from the first floor landing.

'Why not?' snapped Ron. 'We're all of age.'

'Under my roof, you'll do as you're told,' said Mr Weasley. Harry and Hermione raised their eyebrows at each other; they knew it was serious when Mr Weasley was cross.

'Then how come Percy and Audrey can share a room?' asked Ginny.

'They're engaged,' said Mrs Weasley, 'and they live together.'

'So what?' said Ron. 'If she hadn't gone back to school, Hermione and I would probably be living together.'

Harry noticed Hermione go a little pink at these words, and he nudged her with his elbow; eyebrows raised.

'Oh, shush you,' she muttered, and tried very hard not to look too pleased.

George came down the stairs to join in their eavesdropping. 'Blimey, are they still at it?' he asked. 'Who'd have thought anyone would be so keen to sleep with either of you?' Harry made to swipe at him, but George leapt out the way, and dashed back up the stairs, a grin stretched across his face.

After much more arguing, Ginny and Ron gave up, and accepted the sleeping arrangements they had been given. Both couples said good night outside Ginny's room, before the boys made their way up the stairs to Ron's room, where Ariana and Pigwidgeon were already sleeping on top of the wardrobe. However, Ron was still grumbling as they got ready for bed.

'She's my girlfriend,' he muttered, 'we're both of age; she should be allowed to sleep in with me.' Harry smiled to himself, and Ron noticed. 'What're you smiling about?' he asked.

'Oh nothing,' said Harry, 'just... it's been quite a year.'

A smile broke across Ron's face as well. 'You can say that again.'

'It's been quite a year.'

Ron stared at him for a moment, with one eyebrow raised. 'You've got an odd sense of humour, d'you know that?'

Harry grinned.

x x x

The following morning, Harry was woken by the very pleasant sensation of a kiss from Ginny.

'Merry Christmas,' she said, quietly.

Harry sat up, kissed her again and smiled. Ron's bed was empty, and he assumed this meant he was already downstairs with Hermione.

'Merry Christmas to you too,' said Harry, putting on his glasses. 'Does your Mum know you're up here?'

'Don't you start,' said Ginny. 'But, actually, no, she doesn't. Come on, get up quick. We've got presents downstairs.'

Harry flopped back on his camp bed, and shut his eyes. 'Can't a lie-in be a present? Do we have to get up yet?'

'Oi,' said Ginny, 'open your eyes.' Harry did as he was told, just in time to see Ginny open her dressing gown and flash him her underwear.

'Ok, well now I'm awake.'

'There's your first present of the day,' she said, with a grin.

'And just what I wanted! I've always thought green to be a festive colour.'

Ginny giggled, gave him a wink, and slipped out of the room. 'Be downstairs soon,' she called back through the door.

Harry dressed quickly, and followed her down the stairs. Ron and Hermione came out of Ginny's room just as he reached the first floor landing.

'Morning,' said Ron with a yawn.

'Merry Christmas,' said Hermione.

'Same to you both,' said Harry, kissing Hermione on the cheek.

They entered the living room (where, to Harry's silent amusement, Ginny was still in her dressing gown) to find they each had a huge pile of presents waiting for them. Mr and Mrs Weasley were already unwrapping there's, and Ginny had just picked up her first.

George seemed to have torn through all of his before their arrival, and had already donned his new Weasley jumper. Mrs Weasley had her arm around George, and her eyes were puffy as though she'd been crying. Harry was sure he knew why; this was the first Christmas without Fred.

After wishing all the Weasleys and their partners Merry Christmas (and giving Mrs Weasley an extra big hug), Harry set about unwrapping his presents.

He had a new jumper from Mrs Weasley, with a pair of crossed wands on the front of it over the letter H for Harry ('Oh, eet iz jus' like ze Beauxbatons' armoiries,' said Fleur).

Hagrid had sent him a large box of chocolate frogs, which, to Harry's delight, included within them the cards of himself, Ron, Hermione, and Kingsley (newly released following his election).

From George, there were several of the latest Weasley's Wizard Wheezes products, while Bill, Fleur, Charlie, Percy and Audrey had clubbed together to buy Harry a broomstick service from _Firebolt UK Ltd_. This would mean that his own Firebolt would be restored to its off-the-line capabilities.

Andromeda Tonks had sent Harry a drawing that Teddy had done for him (really a scribble, but Harry declared that he would be proudly sticking it to the fridge-door at Grimmauld Place), along with a card from herself, thanking him for the toy broomstick he'd sent Teddy.

Ron had given Harry a set of Quidditch balls. 'So we can start that pub team you've been talking about,' he said, once Harry had unwrapped the shaking chest (the new bludgers seemed very excitable).

Predictably, Hermione had bought him a book; _Advanced Defensive Magic & Counter Curses_. 'I thought it would be useful,' she said, 'since you and Ron do insist on getting yourselves into danger once a week.'

Ginny had obviously had a similar thought, and bought Harry a Shield Belt from Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. 'So you can wear it on missions,' she said, as Harry thread it through the loops of his jeans. 'It won't stop the big curses, but it'll save you from the smaller stuff. Why are you laughing?'

'I had a similar thought,' said Harry, and nodded to the one remaining present in front of Ron. Once it was unwrapped, Ron was holding up the exact same belt.

'Why'd you get me this?' he asked.

'Because you keep getting hit with rubbish hexes,' said Harry, still laughing. 'And every time it happens, I have to fill in the accident reports.'

Ron snorted, and started inspecting the ruby-studded, silver bracelet Harry had given Hermione.

'What's this then?' Harry asked.

'It's jewellery, Ronald,' said Hermione, 'and it doesn't bode well for our relationship that you don't know that.'

Everyone laughed, except for Ron, who waited for their sniggers to pass before continuing. 'I know it's a bracelet,' he said, 'but I don't see why Harry would have bought it for you, unless it does something else.'

'He's right,' said Harry, reasonably. 'I found it in Diagon Alley. It's charmed to reduce the stress-levels of the wearer. I figured it would be good for you to have during your N.E.W.T.s.'

'Oh, that's clever,' said Hermione, sounding a little surprised. 'Thanks Harry.'

'No problem; you're necklace does the same thing, Gin.'

'Oh, does it?' said Ginny. Her necklace was quite different to Hermione's bracelet; also silver, but with three emeralds hanging from the chain. 'Thanks sweetie. Why emeralds though? Isn't that a bit too Slytherin for you?'

'I told you,' he replied, with a shrug. 'I've always thought green to be festive.' They exchanged a small, knowing smile, which none of the other Weasleys seemed to notice. 'Oh, and I got you this,' he added, handing her a small square present.

Ginny unwrapped it to reveal a box, inside which was a framed photo of the two of them on the beach in Porto together.

'I thought you could have it on your nightstand at school,' said Harry.

Ginny gazed down at the photo of them both beaming and waving back from their beach towels, and she started to well up. She gave Harry a kiss on the cheek.

'Thank you,' she said quietly.

'You're welcome,' he said.

She moved her lips as close to his ear as possible, and whispered, 'I'll give you the rest of your present tonight.'

Harry smiled, and looked around anxiously to ensure no-one else had heard.

'Right,' said Mrs Weasley, confirming that they hadn't. 'Lunch is nearly ready; is that everything unwrapped?'

'No, there's this,' said George, picking up an envelope from the floor, and inspecting the address. 'Oh, it's for Harry.'

Harry took the letter, opened it, and read aloud.

_Dear Mr Potter,_

_It is with great pleasure that I am able to write to you today. I have been asked, on behalf of our members, to invite you to join The Dark Force Defence League as a fully fledged member and ranking Auror._

_As I'm sure you're aware, we're a Ministry sponsored organisation, specialising in keeping the __wizarding population safe from potential dark-magic threats._

_However, there is a Ministry-enforced proviso that we must have a member __of the Aurors' Office within the organisation at all times so as "to prevent our interfering with official Auror business". Our previous members were killed during the reign of He Who Must Not Be Named, so we would be delighted if you would accept our invitation to be our latest initiate._

_Please send your reply by o__wl as soon as possible. Our next meeting will be at Brookstanton Manor, on January 3__rd__ at 8pm._

_Warm regards,_

_Kenwyn Fuddlesworthy_

_General Secretary, The Dark Force Defence League_

'Do it,' said Mr Weasley, immediately. 'Merlin knows they need someone to keep an eye on them; daft bunch of trouble makers.'

'Oh, I thought they were quite important,' said Harry. 'Lockhart always used to boast about being an honorary member.'

'Nah, he was supposed to be a boast for them,' said Bill, '"the famous face within their ranks" and all that.'

'Why? Aren't they any good?'

'Oh, they're perfectly capable,' said Mr Weasley, 'and _very_ keen; they're just too self-aggrandising to join the Aurors' Office. They usually turn up at any kind of stand-off and try to take the glory.'

'They're basically the wizarding equivalent of the _Neighbourhood Watch_,' said Hermione. 'They like to be involved, but there's not very much they're allowed to do.'

'Why would I join them then?' asked Harry. 'It sounds like a complete waste of time.'

'I wouldn't say that,' said Mr Weasley. 'Firstly, if you ever need back-up on a big mission, they're very useful to have on your side, and secondly, maybe you'll be able to persuade a few of them to actually join the Aurors. We've got to get _some_ more recruits; I still can't believe they only sent you and Ron to bring Yaxley in.'

Ron picked up Lockhart's book from the coffee table and threw it to Harry. 'Plus,' he said,' you might run into that idiot.'

x x x

The rest of Christmas and New Year flew by. Everybody went home on Boxing Day, and Hermione and Ginny went back to Grimmauld Place with Ron and Harry to avoid further rows over The Burrow's sleeping arrangements.

The boys threw a New Year's Eve party at Grimmauld Place, inviting all of their friends to come. The major highlight had been Neville getting quite drunk, and, with his inhibitions gone, him giving Hannah Abbott a rather lengthy kiss under the mistletoe.

However, for Harry, January 3rd arrived all too soon, and he found himself standing on the top step to Brookstanton Manor, knocking on the door.

It swung open, and immediately Harry was blinded by a camera flash. A photographer from _The Daily Prophet_ continued to snap away, as another man barged him to the side.

He was a broad shouldered gentleman, with a thick brown beard and a booming voice. He was wearing silver robes, and a matching wizard's hat.

'Mr Potter!' he boomed, happily. 'Welcome, welcome, do come in. Do stop taking photos Lionel; there's a good man. Come in, Harry, come in. I'm Timothy Brookstanton; I'm the League's chairman.'

'Err, nice to meet you,' said Harry, shaking his hand. He was still a little dazed from the camera flash.

'Come through, come through; everyone wants to meet you.'

Mr Brookstanton led Harry through the house and into the dining room. At a glance, Harry estimated there were probably twenty witches and wizards of various ages sitting around the table.

Mr Brookstanton closed the dining room door behind him, before turning to the seated guests. 'Everyone, as I'm sure you're aware, this is our new Auror, Mr Harry Potter.'

Everyone applauded, and Lionel the photographer started excitedly taking photos again. Behind them, the door re-opened and another wizard wafted into the room, wearing lavender robes, and his wavy blonde hair bouncing atop his head. His bright, toothy smile, however, faded ever so slightly as his eyes settled upon Harry. This didn't last for long though, as he quickly regained his composure.

'Well, well, well,' said Lockhart, cheerfully, 'who'd have thought it? Harry Potter. Harry, Harry, Potter.' He swept forward and shook Harry's hand, firmly. 'All grown up now, I see. Come to play with the big boys?'

Harry didn't say anything, as he was very aware of the twenty-two pairs of eyes watching them both, so instead, he smiled with gritted teeth.

'Could I get a photo of you both?' asked Lionel the photographer.

'Errr,' Lockhart hesistated. 'Yes, of course; anything for the _Prophet_.'

He put his arm around Harry, who was delighted to see that for once, Lockhart looked most uncomfortable to be having his photo taken.

'Still in the pursuit of fame then, eh Harry?' said Lockhart.

'Not especially,' Harry replied.

'Come now, Gilderoy,' said Mr Brookstanton. 'I'd imagine Harry's far more famous than you are these days.' Mr Brookstanton seemed to have touched a nerve with Lockhart, as he quickly added, 'not that we aren't delighted to have you _both_, obviously.'

'Obviously,' said Lockhart. 'Harry's only here in an official capacity after all.' Harry noticed there was an unmistakeable sneer in Lockhart's voice, as though he considered Aurors to be totally inconsequential.

'So, shall we begin?' asked Mr Brookstanton.

'Actually,' said Lockhart, 'would you mind if I just have a little private word with Harry? Won't be long.'

Before anyone could answer, least of all Harry, Lockhart had escorted him from the room, along the hallway, and into an empty sitting room, where he rounded on Harry.

'Alright Potter,' he snapped, in a far coarser tone than normal, 'what is it that you want?'

Harry raised a bewildered eye-brow. 'I was invited,' he said. 'I'm the new ranking Auror...'

'Yes, yes, yes, I know all that nonsense; certainly not my idea. What is it that you _want_?'

'What are you talking about?' said Harry, angrily.

'It took them _five years_ to break through that memory charm of mine. Imagine my surprise when I leave St Mungo's and find that my reputation was still, for the most part, intact. What are you doing? Waiting for the right time to leak the truth to the press? Biding your time before you destroy my career?'

'It may surprise you, _Gilderoy_,' Harry spat, 'but I actually don't care enough about you or your career to have even considered destroying it.'

'Well, I can't take that chance...'

There was a blur of motion, so fast that not even a moving wizard's photo could've captured it. Lockhart had grabbed his wand, about to raise it at Harry, but unfortunately, Harry had reached his first, and silently disarmed the ex-Professor. Lockhart's wand flew into the air and fell behind a bookcase. Harry seized Lockhart by the lapels, pushed him into the wall; pointing his wand at Lockhart's throat.

'You never learn, do you?' said Harry. He was furious now, and it was taking a considerable effort to control the anger in his voice. 'You were going to try and wipe my memory _again_, weren't you?'

Lockhart whimpered, and gave one curt nod.

'You're an idiot,' Harry growled. 'You get out of St Mungo's; you've got a chance to start a new life, and straight away, you publish a brand new book filled with the same old lies you were telling six years ago! For the record, you were _not_ the best Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher we ever had. The only people who could've claimed that title were Remus Lupin and Alastor Moody, and they both died, in _battle_, as _heroes_. You wouldn't even have turned up to fight, because you're a useless, pathetic, fame-seeking coward.'

'But...' Lockhart stammered, 'but... I... I have to make a living... my books...'

SMACK!

Harry's anger had got the better of him, and in the heat of the moment, he'd forgotten all about magic, and punched Lockhart square in the face.

'Don't you ever claim to be something you're not again,' he said, trying to shake the impact pain from his hand. 'If you do, I'll march straight into _The Daily Prophet_, and hand them the last front-page story you'll ever get. Do you understand?'

Lockhart was visibly shaken; shocked that Harry had struck him. He nodded, and Harry turned away, retrieved the wand from behind the bookcase, and took a deep breath.

'Right then,' he said, calmly. 'Shall we go back in?'

When they returned to the dining room, they took their seats at the table and Harry was introduced to each of the other members. This was followed by a lengthy discussion of rumours that people were going missing in Europe, and whether or not this merited investigation by the League.

'Are we allowed to investigate?' said Kenwyn Fuddlesworthy, the League secretary; a very elderly frail-looking wizard. 'There might be international border issues.'

'Well, if we hear anything more about it,' said Mr Brookstanton, 'we'll have to do step in. This is the sort of thing we were set up for.'

'Actually,' said Harry, adrenaline still pumping through him, 'I'm fairly confident that's what the International Confederation of Wizards was set up for. I'll find out what's going on, and let you know if you're needed.' Mr Brookstanton looked a little deflated by Harry's assertion, but thanked him for his contribution.

Lockhart remained silent throughout the meeting; something that many of the other witches and wizards around the table seemed quite pleased about. So much so, that nobody even bothered to ask how he'd gotten a black-eye.

'How'd it go?' asked Ron, looking up from the newspaper, when Harry returned home later that evening.

'Not bad,' Harry replied. 'Not as time-wasting as I'd feared.'

'Was Lockhart there?'

'He was.'

'And?'

'I punched him in the face.'

'Fair enough,' said Ron, returning to the paper. 'It's about time _someone_ did.'


	9. Chapter 9: The Prefect Wedding

**Chapter 9 – The Prefect Wedding**

A few months on, and Harry had realised that being on the Dark Force Defence League wasn't as terrible as he'd imagined. His primary task was to stop them from leaping without looking; Mr Weasley had said they were keen, and he certainly wasn't wrong.

'No, you can't do that,' Harry sighed, after one leaguer had suggested the group ought to be allowed to investigate murders. 'That's what the Aurors' Office is for.'

He found himself saying this quite a lot at the monthly meetings, but as Eric Proudfoot had said to him, 'it's for their own good, lad'.

Despite having developed this catchphrase, Harry was still taking one great pleasure from the meetings; Lockhart was now afraid of him. In the February meeting, Lockhart had seated himself as far away from Harry as possible, and tutted each time Harry had blocked a League proposal. By the March meeting, Harry had discovered he could silence Lockhart with one look from across the table. At the April meeting, Lockhart didn't even turn up, instead having sent some excuse about a haircut he couldn't get out of.

'Brilliant!' said Ron, when Harry had told him about Lockhart's absence. 'It's really just a shame we couldn't have hit him back in second year.'

'I think Dumbledore might've had something to say about that,' said Harry. 'How far away are we?'

They were sitting in the back of a Ministry car that was taking them to King's Cross. The Easter school holidays had arrived, and the boys had agreed to pick up Hermione and Ginny from the station.

'Just round the corner, I think,' said Ron. 'What time did Mum say we have to be there tomorrow?'

'Nine thirty, wasn't it? I can't believe it's tomorrow; seems like we only met her yesterday.'

'Yeah, well you know Percy; he's overseen the whole thing with military precision. I'm surprised it took him _this_ long, to be honest.'

The following day was to be Percy and Audrey's wedding. This was the main reason the girls were coming home for the holiday (Hermione had protested that she needed to study, but in the end, Ron had won her over by insisting that he wouldn't be able to bear the wedding without her). As the bridal couple both worked around the clock for the Ministry, Audrey hadn't been able to find a lot of time for wedding planning. Therefore, Percy had made most of the plans (under strict orders from Audrey of what she wanted) and recruited Mrs Weasley and a small squadron of Ministry interns to put them into action.

The car arrived at the station and the boys got out, walked through the crowds of muggles and made their way to the barrier between platforms nine and ten. Checking there was nobody watching them, they walked through at a leisurely pace.

'Merlin's beard,' Ron exclaimed, as they re-emerged on platform nine and three-quarters, 'that's so much easier when you're not dragging a trunk.'

Harry laughed, and led the way along the platform to an empty bench, where they sat down.

The platform was the probably the quietest Harry had ever seen it, used to it as he was on days when the school year was either beginning or ending. There were a few other parents stood around, waiting for the train, but it looked like the majority of students had elected to stay at Hogwarts.

Eventually, on the chime of six o'clock, the train pulled into the station, and Hermione, Ginny, and Luna emerged from the third coach.

'Hello,' said Ginny with a yawn, standing on her tiptoes to kiss Harry.

'Long day?' he asked. 'You look tired.'

'Oh thanks a lot,' she replied.

'Long term, really,' sighed Hermione, before giving Ron a kiss. 'I've got so much work to do in the next two weeks, it's ridiculous. God I miss my time turner.'

'How're you Luna?' asked Harry.

'Oh quite well thank you,' she said in her usual dreamy voice. 'I've been rather enjoying this term actually. It's a lot of work, but it's better than being locked in a cellar like last year.'

Assuming that Luna meant this as a joke, Ron went to laugh, but at the last second, realised that she might be serious and stopped himself.

'Anyway,' she said, 'there's Daddy. I'd better go. I'll see you tomorrow.'

'Bye Luna,' chorused the others, as she skipped away towards her father. Harry had not encountered Xenophilius Lovegood since his release from Azkaban, and from the look on his face, Harry could tell that Mr Lovegood was not eager to speak with him anytime soon. Harry suspected that Mr Lovegood, much like Gilderoy Lockhart, was worried about his reputation; fearful that Harry might reveal the story of his attempted betrayal. Harry, of course, had no such intention.

'Can we go home too, please?' asked Ginny. 'I just want food and then sleep.'

'That's good,' said Harry, 'Kreacher's been cooking all afternoon. I dread to think how he'd have taken it if you weren't hungry.'

Back at Grimmauld Place, Kreacher had really outdone himself, having prepared them a beautiful roast lamb. The girls (who had only had Pumpkin Pasties from the sweet-trolley all day) ate more food than Harry would've thought possible. Ron sat back and watched proudly as Hermione helped herself not only to seconds, but thirds (Ginny had declared herself full not long before).

'So,' said Ginny, 'what's been happening here while we've been gone? Punched anymore fading celebrities lately, babes?'

Harry grinned. 'Nope,' he replied. 'Don't get me wrong, I'm looking for the opportunities...'

'Oh, don't be silly,' said Hermione. 'You're lucky Lockhart didn't have you arrested.'

Ron sniggered. 'I'd like to see him try. No-one in their right mind would arrest Harry; there'd be uproar. Besides, it'd probably be _me_ that they sent to bring him in, and I already know I can't take him in a duel.'

Harry and Ginny both laughed, while Hermione looked disapproving.

'Seriously though,' said Ginny. 'Hasn't anything interesting happened?'

'Not really,' said Harry. 'There was that bother with the Mansfield manticore, but I told you about that.'

'You mean that witch who was trying to breed manticores in her bedsit?'

'Yeah, that one. Oh, and there's those people who've gone missing in France, but, well...'

'Well, what?'

'The French Minister of Magic won't let us assist in the investigation,' said Ron. 'He's saying it's not our business.'

'He's right, isn't he?' asked Hermione. 'Surely, they've got their own Aurors for that.'

'Yeah, but we _still_ don't know what the Legion is,' said Harry. 'We've heard nothing new since I got Arianna, and the prophecy said that the Legion would rise after the lost bird cries. She stopped crying about four months ago, so why has nothing happened?'

'Look Harry,' said Hermione, 'when the next dark wizard wants to kill you, I'm sure you'll be told about it. In the meantime, try not to worry so much.'

Ron and Ginny gaped at Hermione, surprised by her carefree attitude, but Harry glanced at her wrist, and saw she was wearing the stress-relief bracelet he'd given her for Christmas.

'I take it the bracelet works,' said Harry.

'Not enough,' she replied, and pulled up her other sleeve to reveal she was wearing a second; this one studded with sapphires. 'Together though, they really take the edge off.'

After dinner, they all said goodnight and went off to bed. Harry went to clean his teeth, and when he returned to his room, Ginny was already in bed, making herself comfortable.

'Oh,' said Harry, 'are you going straight to sleep?'

'Yeah, I'm exhausted. Why?'

'I've not seen you for a month and half; I thought we might, y'know...'

Ginny smiled, pulled him towards her, and gave him a soft little kiss. 'Oh Harry, I've missed you too, but I honestly don't have the energy tonight. Tomorrow night after the wedding, I promise.'

Harry grinned. 'I don't know,' he said, 'are you sure it'll be worth the wait?'

'I can't believe you even have to ask,' she joked, and rolled over on to her side.

x x x

The following morning, as had happened on Christmas day, Ginny woke Harry with a kiss.

'Morning,' she said, brightly, pulling the duvet back and jumping out of bed. 'Time to get up.'

'Why on earth am I going out with a morning person?' Harry replied, rubbing his eyes and yawning. She walked back to the bed and kissed him again, this time with a little more passion. 'Oh yeah, that's why.'

Once they were washed and dressed (Harry in his dress robes, and Ginny in a olive green dress that Mrs Weasley had sent her), they made their way down the stairs. Harry stopped at Ron's room, and was about to knock on the door when he heard a moan from the other side. Harry smirked, backed away, and caught up with Ginny who was already on the landing below.

'Were they up?' she asked.

'You could say that,' said Harry. 'I think they're going to be a little while.'

Seventeen minutes later, Ron appeared in the kitchen (also in dress robes), made himself a cup of tea, and sat down at the table.

'Morning,' he said, 'Hermione'll be down in a bit; she's just fixing her hair.'

'I'll bet she is,' said Ginny, straight-faced. Ron looked confused, decided it was too early to ask, and took a swig of tea.

Once Hermione had made it downstairs (in an elegant, backless, black dress), eaten breakfast, and also ignored the sniggering of Harry and Ginny, the quartet Apparated to The Burrow.

'Morning,' said Ginny, as they walked through the kitchen door.

'Ah, good, you're here,' said Percy. He was wearing his dress robes, holding a clipboard, and looking rather flustered. 'Ron, take these out to the marquee will you?' he said, handing him a large pile of plates. 'Ginny, you can fold these napkins.'

'For goodness sake, Percy,' said Mrs Weasley, swatting the Groom across the shoulder. 'Let them say hello before you start giving them jobs. Hello girls, did you have a nice term?'

'Yes thanks, Mum,' said Ginny, receiving a hug.

'Hermione? Not too stressed?'

'No, I'm keeping on top of things,' said Hermione.

'Good girl.' She turned to Harry and Ron. 'Boys, how're you both?'

'Fine thanks,' Harry and Ron said together.

'Lovely,' said Mrs Weasley. 'Ok Perce, _now_ you can go ahead.'

'Thank you,' said Percy, obviously annoyed by the hold up. 'Ron, plates; Ginny, napkins; Harry, Hermione, come and help with the chairs.'

Ginny sat down at the kitchen table and started to fold, as Percy led Harry, Ron, and Hermione out into the garden.

A great purple marquee had been set up, once again provided by _Millamant's Magic Marquees_, and was filled with stacks of silver chairs. The poles holding up the canopy had been decorated with chains of lilacs entwined around them. The canopy itself was illuminated by streams of silver stars, that would occasionally bounce into each other and burst like fireworks.

Inside, Mr Weasley, George, and Angelina Johnson were already unstacking the chairs and sorting them into rows.

'Ah, good, another two pairs of hands,' said Mr Weasley, beaming at Harry and Hermione.

'Why aren't you using magic to do this?' Hermione asked.

George made an urgent shushing sound. 'Don't let Percy hear you say that,' he whispered. 'The longer we take doing this, the fewer jobs he'll give us when we're done.'

Harry nodded, and started unstacking a nearby pile.

'Hi Harry,' said Angelina.

'Hey,' Harry replied, stopping to give her a hug. 'You're early aren't you?'

'Not really.'

'But the wedding doesn't start for a couple of hours.'

'I know; I'm George's date.'

Harry felt his eyebrows raise; an expression mirrored by Hermione who was listening in. 'Really?'

'Yeah, we've been seeing each other for a few months now.'

'Really?' Harry repeated, trying to conceal the surprise in his voice.

'Yes,' said Angelina, very deliberately. 'He asked me out just before Christmas...'

'Angie,' George interrupted from six rows of chairs away. 'Can you ask Mum where we're putting these tables during the ceremony?'

'Yeah, no problem.' She turned back to Harry. 'We'll catch up in a bit; can't let Percy think we're not working.' She dashed out of the tent and off to find Mrs Weasley.

'Bit weird, isn't it?' Hermione muttered. 'George dating Fred's ex.'

'I know,' Harry muttered back, glancing at George. 'But I suppose, if it gives them both some comfort...'

Hermione nodded thoughtfully, but in doing so, was spotted standing still.

'Oi,' said Percy, '_chairs_.'

'Sorry, sorry,' said Hermione. She flicked her wand at a nearby stack, making them float through the air and arrange themselves in a row.

After much hard work, a string quintet had set up, the chairs had been laid out, and the, now familiar, tufty-haired wizard (who was to preside over the ceremony once again) had arrived. Harry and Ron were handed colour-coded seating charts by Percy, and instructed to start ushering guests to their seats. Ginny and Hermione were delighted to discover that they were allowed to sit down, giggling at Harry as he showed great-Aunt Muriel to hers. They both stopped laughing though when they overheard Muriel muttering about them to the elderly wizard seated beside her.

'Far too much flesh on show; I thought Ginevra's dress was low-cut at William's wedding, but clearly I had _no_ idea. And as for Ronald's young lady; I can only assume dresses like _that_ are a muggle design...'

'Ignore her,' Ron muttered to them, as he showed the Pritchards to their seats, 'prudish old bat.'

'The thing about _bats_, Ronald,' said Muriel, loudly, 'is that we have very good hearing. Now stand up straight; there's a good boy.' Ron's ears turned red, and he skulked back up the aisle to greet more guests.

'Hello Mr Lovegood,' said Harry, back at the marquee entrance.

'Ah, yes, Mr Potter, er, good day to you.' Mr Lovegood was dressed in canary-yellow dress-robes, along with a golden waistcoat (Harry remembered that the Lovegoods believed in wearing sun-colours to weddings). He seemed uneasy about being in Harry's presence, and was struggling to make eye contact.

'Hello Harry,' said Luna, airily, also wearing a new, bright yellow dress. 'You look very smart.'

'Thanks Luna,' he said, giving her a hug and a kiss on the cheek. 'You look very nice too. Would you like me to show you both to your seats?'

'No, no thank you,' said Mr Lovegood, hastily, 'I'm sure we can manage.'

Mr Lovegood led Luna passed Harry and into the marquee, just as Ron reappeared.

'Xenophilius is still acting weird around me,' Harry informed him.

'Really?' asked Ron. 'How can you tell?'

Eventually, everyone was seated (including Hagrid, on a magically re-enforced bench at the back) and Harry and Ron took their own seats with Hermione and Ginny.

Percy and Bill (who was Best Man) were standing at the front of the marquee with the tufty-haired wizard. The musicians started to play, and everyone turned to watch Audrey walk down the aisle, followed by two bridesmaids in lavender dresses that Harry didn't know.

Harry looked back at Percy; he looked happier than Harry had ever seen him. When Audrey had reached the front, they locked hands and beamed at each other.

'Ladies and Gentlemen,' said the sing-song voice of the tufty-haired wizard, 'we are gathered here today to celebrate the union of two faithful souls...'

'Someone needs to write him a new script,' Ginny muttered. 'This is just what he said at Bill and Fleur's wedding.'

Harry smiled, but didn't comment. He was unable to remember much of that ceremony, as he had spent much of it daydreaming about afternoons spent with Ginny at Hogwarts.

'Oh wait,' she added, 'this bit's new.'

'Another Weasley wedding,' said the tufty-haired wizard, cheerfully, 'and I'm sure not the last! I'm sure Arthur and Molly are delighted to welcome a new daughter-in-law into their family, just as Sergius and Delia are delighted to welcome a new son-in-law into theirs.'

'Our loss is our gain,' muttered George. Ron and Ginny smirked.

'Do you, Percy Ignatius, take Audrey Catherine...'

As Percy and Audrey exchanged their vows, the women around Harry, though smiling, all had tears filling up in their eyes. Harry handed Ginny a handkerchief, and she dabbed her eyes before quickly kissing him. The atmosphere wasn't even ruined by the elephant-like sounds of Hagrid's nose-blowing.

'...As the two of you have made your promises to one another, I declare you bonded for life. You may kiss the bride, Percy.'

Percy's ears went a little red, but he didn't need to be told twice, and kissed his new wife. The tufty-haired wizard raised his wand over the couple's heads, showering them in a cocoon of silver stars, before waving it over the audience. Applause broke out for the couple, and Percy and Audrey broke apart, beaming out at their friends and family.

Everyone got to their feet, and with another wave of his wand, the tufty-haired wizard had rearranged all the chairs around tables, and a silver dance floor (much like the golden one from Bill and Fleur's wedding) had formed in the centre of the marquee. Percy and Audrey began to dance as the string quintet started playing again.

Unlike at the previous wedding, the walls of the marquee remained in place, as the April weather was still a little too cold to remove them.

'Drink ladies?' asked a waiter, appearing beside Hermione and Ginny.

'Oh, thanks,' said Hermione, taking a butterbeer, and handing another to Ginny.

'Gentlemen?'

'What have you got?' asked Ron.

'Ionly have butterbeer and firewhiskey at the moment, though I could fetch you something else...'

'No, no, firewhiskey's fine. Here you go, Harry.'

'Thanks.'

'Let me know if you need a refill,' said the waiter, before disappearing into the crowd.

'Shall we find a table?' asked Ginny.

'No,' said Harry, firmly. He handed his drink back to Ron. 'I didn't get to dance with you at Bill's wedding; I'm not missing out today. Come on.'

Ginny made an impressed face at Hermione (who took her drink to hold and winked back), before following Harry on to the dance floor.

Several other couples had already joined Percy and Audrey now, including Bill and Fleur, George and Angelina, and Mr Weasley and Mrs Pritchard who were dancing together while Mr Pritchard danced with Mrs Weasley.

Ginny rested her head against Harry's shoulder as they started to sway to the music.

'I didn't know you were such a keen dancer,' she said.

'I'm not,' Harry replied, 'I'm a very keen boyfriend.'

Ginny giggled, and looked up into his eyes. 'Now there's an understatement.'

They kissed, still dancing on the spot, until, just as the song finished, they were interrupted by Charlie.

'Alright, alright you two, calm it down; there's brothers and old Aunts present. The last thing we need is for Muriel to have something else to be gossiping about.'

'Don't you have bridemaids to chat up, snog, and never write to?' asked Ginny.

'Ah, good point,' said Charlie. 'See you in a bit.'

Harry laughed and kissed Ginny's forehead. Mr Weasley had finished dancing with Mrs Pritchard, and was standing alone in the middle of the dance floor.

'Do you want to dance, Dad?' Ginny asked.

'Thought you'd never ask,' Mr Weasley replied, smiling at his daughter.

She turned back to Harry. 'You don't mind, do you?'

'No, go ahead.'

'Thanks,' she said, planting another small kiss on him, 'I'll find you in a bit.'

Harry smiled, and watched for a moment as she started to waltz around the floor with her father.

'Ron's eating,' said Hermione, appearing beside him, 'do you want to dance for a bit?'

Harry laughed. 'Only if you promise not to tread on my toes.' She smiled, placed her left hand on his shoulder, took his right hand and placed it on her waist, and held his other with her right. The quintet changed to a new song, and they began swaying to the music.

'So,' she said, 'who's wedding will be next, do you think?'

'Dunno; you and Ron?'

'Don't be silly,' she said dismissively, but she was smiling and her cheeks were quite pink. 'You know what he's like; it'll be ages before he gets around to asking me.'

'_You_ could ask _him_.'

Hermione grinned. 'Oh no, I'd never make it that easy for him.'

'Not on this morning's evidence,' Harry smirked.

'Oh... so, you _did_ hear us.'

'Only a little; I was going to knock and see if you were awake.'

'We were.'

'I gathered.'

They grinned at each other, and quickly looked away to stop themselves from laughing. They danced on in silence for a few moments.

'What about you and Gin?' said Hermione, recovering herself. 'It could be your wedding next.'

Harry smiled. 'One day, I'd hope, but we're in no rush.'

'What about George and Angelina?'

'What about them?'

'Maybe they'll get married.'

'Maybe.'

'Do you really not think it's a bit weird?'

'It's definitely a _bit_ weird,' said Harry, looking over at the dancing couple, 'but George needs someone who gets him; someone who shares his grief.'

'But he's not shown any sign of grief since the battle. He's still the same old George.'

'I know he hasn't,' said Harry, solemnly.

Ron appeared beside them, and tapped Harry on the shoulder. 'Can I cut in?' he asked.

'Of course,' Harry replied, brightly, 'just point me to the sausage rolls first.'

A few minutes later, a plate full of food in hand, Harry sat himself down at a table with only one other occupant.

'Oh, Mr Potter,' said Mr Lovegood, looking up from his drink. 'I'll – er – just let you eat alone.' He got up to go, but Harry grabbed his arm.

'Mr Lovegood,' said Harry, kindly, '_please_, sit down.'

Mr Lovegood stared at him for a moment, before slowly nodding, and returning to his seat.

'Mr Lovegood, you know I don't _blame_ you, don't you? For what happened when we visited your house, I mean.'

'I can't ask you for that, Mr Potter,' said Mr Lovegood. 'I'm very sorry for what I did, or at least, what I tried to do.'

'I understand,' said Harry calmly. 'You were scared for Luna.'

'I had to get her back, Mr Potter. I had to. But not like that; not by handing you over. Azkaban was the least I deserved.'

'Mr Lovegood...'

'...Xenophilius, please...'

'...Xenophilius; it's ok. Really.'

There was a long pause, while Mr Lovegood considered Harry's words. 'Thank you, Mr Potter,' he said eventually. 'You are a _very_ good man.'

'Call me Harry.'

'Thank you, Harry.'

Harry smiled. 'Luna's dancing on her own; I'm sure she'd like you to join her.' He nodded over to where Luna was twirling on the spot, flapping her arms like a bird.

'Ah, the Giraffalump dance,' said Mr Lovegood. 'Yes, I think I will join her. Farewell Harry.'

'I must say, young Harry, I was impressed by that,' said an old voice from behind him. Harry turned, and found himself face to face with Aunt Muriel. 'Very honourable of you.'

'Thank you,' said Harry, suspiciously. It was obvious Muriel was up to something.

'Tell me, Mr Potter, have you met my friend here, Egbert Binns?' She gestured to the elderly gentlemen sitting beside her. He was at least eighty, and seemed to be half asleep; his patchy grey hair flapping in the breeze from the marquee entrance. Muriel poked him with the top of her walking stick, and he jolted awake.

'What?' he said, slightly dazed. His eyes fell on Harry. 'Where am I? Who are you?'

'Calm down, Egbert, dear, this is Harry Potter.'

'Oh really? My word. Why, you must know my great-Grandfather, Cuthbert.'

'What, Professor Binns?' asked Harry.

'Yes indeed. Strange thing having a ghost in the family, dear boy; odd to know they were around before you and will still be around after.'

'Never mind the family tree,' said Muriel. 'Tell the boy what you're working on, Egbert.'

'Oh yes,' said Egbert, adjusting his spectacles. 'I'm working on a book, Mr Potter, about the fall of Voldemort.' Muriel shivered as he said the name, but the fact that he had done so gave Harry new respect for him. 'I'm going to call it _The Dark Lord's Demise_. No-one else has chronicled the events of last year yet, and I'm eager to be the first. Perhaps you'd be willing to tell me your version of the story?'

'Absolutely,' said Harry, 'send me an owl and we'll arrange a meeting.'

'See Egbert, I told you the boy would be co-operative,' said Muriel. 'He's courting my great-niece, don't you know?'

x x x

It was dark outside now. Many of the guests had tired of dancing, and were now sitting around the edge of the room, massaging their feet. The dance floor itself was now solely populated by the younger guests, including Harry and Ginny. He was just telling her about Egbert Binns's book, when they were interrupted by Audrey.

'Excuse me,' she said, 'I just wanted to say thank you both for your assistance getting everything ready this morning.'

'No worries,' said Harry. 'Happy to help.'

'Well that's very sweet, but I know what Percy's like; when he gets stressed he gets bossy, so I'm sure this morning must've been, well...'

'Bloody infuriating?' Ginny suggested.

'Yes, that's the one.' Both girls laughed.

'We're used to it,' said Ginny. 'Besides, small price to pay for another girl in the family.'

Audrey smiled, and they hugged. 'Anyway, just wanted to say bye,' said Audrey. 'We're off now to catch the last international Portkey. Percy booked the honeymoon; I've no idea where we're going.'

'For Percy's idea of fun?' said Ginny.

'Back to the office, I should imagine,' said Harry, with a smirk. Audrey smiled.

'Anyway, thanks again; probably see you at work when we're back, Harry; Ginny, have a good last term.'

'Yeah, thanks,' said Ginny, 'have a good honeymoon.'

The girls hugged again, before Audrey crossed the marquee, waited until Mrs Weasley had stopped hugging Percy, and then the two newlyweds left together.

'I like her,' said Ginny. 'She's enough like Percy that they're a good match, but enough unlike Percy to seem – y'know – normal.'

Harry smiled. 'I like _you_,' he said, gazing down at her. Ginny smiled back, and took him by the hand.

'Come with me.'

She led him out of the marquee, seemingly unnoticed by any of the other guests who were all engrossed in conversation, food, or dancing.

They walked back towards The Burrow, but before they reached the kitchen, Ginny steered them away around the side of the house.

'Where are we going?' Harry asked.

'Just wait,' she replied.

They arrived at the orchard; Ginny opened the gate, gesturing Harry through it before following him in, and closing it behind her.

'Abstineo; exsurdo maxima,' she muttered, tapping the top of the gate twice with her wand. 'There; that'll keep them away and stop them hearing.'

'Keep who away?' Harry asked. 'Stop them hearing what?'

'Harry, don't ask so many questions.'

She led him to the very end of the orchard, beneath the largest apple tree, and waved her wand again, conjuring up a blanket.

'Sit down,' she said, quietly. Harry did as he was told, and rested his back against the tree. Ginny kneeled astride him, gazing into his eyes. She reached out, and took off his glasses, putting them down on the blanket.

'I love you,' she whispered.

'I love you too,' he replied.

And then she kissed him. Fiery and full of passion; her hands played with his hair, as his caressed her waist. Harry slid a hand up over her back, using it to pull her closer until he could feel her heart beating against his chest. He felt her fingertips under his shirt, brushing against the side of his stomach. She broke from his lips, and kissed his neck, just above his collarbone. Harry let out a soft, satisfied groan, and Ginny pulled back, a gentle smile on her face.

'Help me with this,' she said, pulling her dress up, over her head, and off. Harry helped guide it passed her hair, before throwing it aside.

'Are you sure?' Harry asked, trying not to look too excited. 'Here?'

Ginny smiled; a mischievous twinkle in her eye. 'Yes,' she whispered. Her lips were less than an inch from his again. 'I've got a promise to keep.'


	10. Chapter 10: The Legion of the Lost Ones

**Chapter 10 – The Legion of the Lost Ones**

'I'm bored,' said Ron. 'I've even finished all my paperwork. I _never_ finish all my paperwork.'

'You can do mine if you like,' said Neville. 'I've still got loads from last week's raid.'

Ron shivered at the memory. 'No thanks, I've got bite marks to remind me of that.'

'Oh, great,' Neville sighed. 'Then I've still got an injury report to do as well.'

May was proving to be a very quiet month for the Aurors office. Ever since the girls had gone back to school, Harry and Ron had had very little to keep them busy. So much so that Ron had insisted upon joining Neville's raid on the home of a wizard in Dorset, who was growing a Venomous Tentacula nest in his back bedroom. It had not gone smoothly.

Harry signed his name on the bottom of his last report, and threw the quill down on his desk. 'Right, I'm done,' he said, looking up at Ron. 'Lunch?'

'Finally,' Ron groaned. 'Where shall we go?'

'Anywhere but the Ministry canteen,' said Harry. 'We've eaten there about three weeks in a row, and I can't stomach those meatballs again.'

'There's that new place in Diagon Alley; we can stop in to see George while we're there.'

'Bring me back a sandwich, will you?' said Neville, picking up a galleon from his desk and flipping it to Harry. 'I'm starving but I've got to get this report in by two.'

It was warm in London for mid-May, and the sun was gently breathing down on Diagon Alley as Harry and Ron weaved between the shoppers. They walked passed Gringotts where Harry's ban was still in place. It was continuing to cause problems; the Ministry had been forced to start paying Harry directly, rather than transfer his wages straight into his vault. This gave him to spend without having to send a trustee into the bank to withdraw his gold.

They were about ten feet away from Weasley's Wizard Wheezes when the sound of a woman screaming carried through the shop's door and windows.

'Not again,' Harry sighed.

'I told him,' said Ron. 'I told him not to let the customers sample Skiving Snackboxes in the shop.'

'Come on.'

However, when they entered the shop, they were surprised that there was no sign of vomiting, nosebleeds, or even fainting. In fact, there were very few customers in the shop. Instead, there was George, Angelina, and a handful of applauding spectators.

'What's going on?' asked Ron.

'George just asked me to marry him!' Angelina squealed.

Ron didn't say anything for a moment. He seemed to have not heard. 'Sorry,' he said, confused, 'w_hat's_ going on?'

'Well, I was going to wait and tell everyone together,' said George, 'but yeah, Angelina and I are getting married.'

There was another pause, as Ron tried to absorb these words. '_What?_'

'Oh, that's charming,' said George.

'Sorry,' said Harry. 'We were expecting to find someone bleeding or something. He hadn't braced himself for this. Congratulations.'

'Thanks Harry,' said Angelina.

'Yeah, yeah, sorry,' said Ron, slowly coming back to himself, and holding out his hand for George to shake. 'Congratulations bro, you're a lucky man.'

'Aww, thanks Ronnikins,' said George, patronisingly. Ron ignored him.

'When are you telling Mum?'

'Probably tonight, seeing as how _you_ already know. Anyway, did you want anything?'

'We were going to ask if you wanted to come for lunch,' said Harry, 'but now you mention it, I am low on Peruvian Darkness Powder.'

'We've actually just got back from lunch,' said George, 'but Darkness Powder I can do.'

Once Harry had tried to pay, and been refused ('your money's still no good here, Harry.'), he and Ron congratulated George and Angelina again, said goodbye, and left for the cafe.

'Well,' said Harry, sitting down and picking up a menu, 'wasn't expecting that today.'

'_Today_?' said Ron. 'I wasn't expecting it, full stop.'

They ordered their meal from the young witch who worked in the shop, and then dived into a conversation about Quidditch. They'd been talking for a few minutes when Ron suddenly remembered something.

'Have you met up with that Egbert bloke about his book yet?'

'Yeah,' said Harry. 'Where did you think I was on Wednesday night?'

'Oh, I thought you'd gone to buy milk; I wondered what took so long. How'd it go?'

'Pretty good; he was very interested in how we worked out where each horcrux was hidden.'

'What did you tell him?'

'That Hermione's brilliant. Course, I also told him not to say that in the book...'

'Did you mention me?'

'Obviously.'

'And?'

'Yes,' Harry sighed, 'you're going to be in it.'

'Hermione too?'

'Hermione too.'

'Good.'

They ate their lunch, bought Neville a sandwich, and, as it was a sunny day, decided to walk back to work. However, they were barely half way along the Alley when they ran into a familiar face.

'Alright, you two?' said Hagrid, his head shielding them from the sun.

'Hagrid!' said Harry, beaming. 'What're you doing in London?'

'Jus' picking up some stuff fer the school,' he replied. 'Graduation next month, so I was tryna find some grass-mowin' beetles. Tidy up the grounds.'

'No luck?'

'Nah, not yet. Tricky things ter find nowadays, wha' with Knockturn Alley bein' shut down an' all.'

'Oh Hagrid, thanks for the letter last week,' said Ron, 'it meant a lot.'

'Ahh yeh, don't mention it,' said Hagrid, patting Ron on the shoulder. 'Jus' wanted yeh ter know I was thinkin' about yeh an' the family.'

'And Mum said that if I was to run into you, I was to thank you for the flowers.'

'Tell her she's welcome. I can't believe it's bin a year.'

'I know,' said Harry. 'Not a day goes by when I don't think of them.'

Ron sniffed, and Harry noticed that he was gazing over at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes.

'I miss him too, mate,' said Harry, patting Ron on the back.

'Thanks,' he sniffed.

'I'd bes' be off,' said Hagrid. 'Either of yeh got a message fer the girls?'

'Tell them to work hard,' said Ron, 'and tell Hermione not to stress too much.'

'Will do. Are yeh comin' up for the las' Quidditch match next week? We only have ter win by ten ter get the cup.'

'Yeah, we'll be there,' said Harry, 'if nothing comes up.'

'I'll see yeh next week then. Look after yeh selves, boys. Love ter the family, Ron.'

They said goodbye to Hagrid, but remained silent for most of their walk back to the Ministry.

As it was closer to Diagon Alley, Harry and Ron decided to use the Ministry's visitor entrance. They crammed themselves into the old red phone box together, and Harry dialled in the number; six, two, four, four, two.

'Welcome to the Ministry of Magic,' said an invisible, apparently bored, woman's voice. 'Please state your name and business.'

Harry was about to speak, when he noticed there was a woman standing outside the phone box, not much older than them, gazing in. At first glance, Harry suspected she might be a muggle, but her pink wellington boots, green woollen poncho, and red jodhpurs gave her away as a witch. Harry smiled, and mouthed 'we'll just be a minute'. She smiled, nodded back, and turned away, patiently waiting to use the entrance herself.

'Harry Potter and Ron Weasley,' said Harry. 'We're both Aurors, and just back from lunch.'

'Thank you,' said the voice. The floor of the phone box shuddered, and they began to descend into the ground. After a minute or so, the booth had rattled its way through the earth, and emerged in the hallway below.

'The Ministry of Magic wishes you a pleasant afternoon,' said the woman's voice. The door opened, and Harry and Ron stepped out.

They joined the throng of people walking through the hallway, until they reached the Atrium. They were just walking by the Fountain of Magical Brethren when a familiar voice called to them.

'Harry! Ron!'

They turned, and saw that Mr Weasley was jogging towards them.

'You alright Dad?' asked Ron.

'Yes, fine. The Minister asked me to send you to his office. Said something about a new idea he wants to run by you.'

'Ok,' said Harry. 'Is he still there?'

'No, he's gone to lunch. I said you'd stop in about three o'clock.'

'That's great,' said Ron, 'oh, Hagrid sends his love, we've just seen...'

BOOM!

The end of Ron's sentence was cut off by an almighty explosion. Harry didn't know what had happened. He seemed to be have been blinded by the blast and his ears were ringing. It was as though a flashbang grenade had gone off right in front of him. He blinked, trying to regain some of his vision, but he could only see vague shapes.

'What was that?' said a distorted voice.

'Ron?' said Harry. 'Is that you?'

'Yeah. Is that you Harry?'

'Yeah. Arthur, are you ok?'

No reply.

'Dad?'

Harry blinked again, and the blurry shape of Ron started to comeback into view. He looked around, and saw the outline of Mr Weasley lying on the floor.

'ARTHUR!' Harry cried, diving to the ground, and trying, semi-blindly, to check Mr Weasley's pulse. Eventually he found it, and was relieved to feel it beating.

'He's alive,' said Harry.

'Stunned?' asked Ron.

'No, it's something more than that.'

'It is,' said another voice. 'The real question is: _how're you two still standing?_'

Harry stood up, and spun around. His vision was still hazy, but he could see just enough to tell that there were people lying unconscious, all across the Atrium floor.

One word, formed in Harry's head; 'help'. Instinctively, he raised his wand, pointed it towards the nearby staircases, and muttered, 'expecto patronum.' Even with distorted vision, there was no mistaking the shining silver stag as it erupted from his wand, and galloped off down the stairs.

'Who are you?' asked Ron, staring across the Atrium. Harry followed his eyeline, and could just make out a figure standing, quite still, several yards away from them.

'That is not the question,' said the figure. 'The question remains: _how're you two still standing?_'

The figure's voice was odd. Harry knew that his hearing had almost returned to normal, as he'd heard Ron's voice clearly. However, the figure's voice seemed to echo, as though several people were speaking at once.

'Shield belts,' said Harry. 'We both wear them for work. That's why we're still standing. Now, tell us who you are.'

The figure took three steps towards them, just enough for Harry's eyes to distinguish the colour of its clothes. He gasped. The figure was unmistakably wearing pink boots, red jodhpurs, and a green poncho.

'Tell you who I am?' said the woman. 'What use would such knowledge be to you? I am but one of many.'

Her voice still sounded strange. Harry was sure he could hear a French accent coming from somewhere, yet positive that the woman was speaking with a cut-glass English accent.

'Then why are you here?' asked Ron. 'What have you done to these people?'

'They are sedated,' she said. 'Otherwise, they tend to put up a fight.'

'Who do?' asked Harry. His vision was almost back to normal, and he could see that the woman had a twisted smile on her face.

'The lost ones.'

'What?'

'The lost ones,' she repeated. 'Those who will become part of the Legion.'

As one, Harry and Ron raised their wands, pointing them at the woman.

'You,' said Harry. 'You know what the Legion is?'

'Certainly.'

'Then what is it?' asked Ron, wand still raised.

'_We_ are the Legion,' she replied.

'We are?' asked Harry.

'Not you. _Us_.'

'I don't get it,' said Ron.

'Perhaps, if you saw...'

The woman looked down at the floor, and saw an elderly wizard lying beside her. She pointed her wand at his face.

'WAIT!' Harry shouted. But it was too late.

Without speaking any incantation, a brilliant blue light burst from her wand, and struck the old man. What happened next, Harry had never seen before; the man's body and clothes turned a pure white; bright and shimmering as though he was ablaze. Then, with a scream of agony, the gleaming mass was pulled towards the tip of the woman's wand, being absorbed by it. It seemed to have vanished, but then it burst out of the woman, like she was made of light. Once it had faded, her skin glistened as though wet, and Harry realised she looked a few years younger. The old man was gone, and as she looked up from where he had lain, the twisted smile had returned to her face.

'What have you done?' Harry growled. 'Bring him back.'

'He is one of the lost now,' she snarled, still smiling. 'He is part of the Legion.'

'But what is the Legion?' asked Ron.

'_I am_ Legion...'

'...for you are many,' Harry muttered to himself.

'What?' asked Ron.

'She consumes them,' Harry spat, disgusted by this revelation. 'She _feeds_ on them.'

'Very good,' she said. Her eyes snapped to his forehead, settling on his scar. 'Yes, I thought you looked familiar in the phone box, _Mr Potter_.'

'But why?' Harry asked.

'Life, Potter. Everlasting life.'

'Oh here we go,' Ron sighed.

'Is that it?' said Harry, unimpressed. 'That's why you killed that man?'

'Killed him?' said Legion. 'You are so narrow-minded, Mr Potter. Harvey Strout is very much alive.'

'How do you know his name?'

'I know everything about him. He is part of me now. I have his memories, I have his magic, and I have his years.'

'His years?'

'Certainly. The years he would have had; they are mine to live now.'

'Let him go,' said Harry calmly. 'He's not yours to take.'

'There is only one way for him to leave,' said Legion.

'What is it?'

There was a pause before she spoke; the twisted smile still present on her face. 'Kill me.'

'Not a problem,' said a voice. Harry spun around. The other Aurors had arrived, wands raised, led by Nicholas Savage, whose voice it was. 'Avada Kedavra.'

'NO!' Harry shouted, but it was too late. A jet of green light burst from Savage's wand, flew across the Atrium, and struck Legion in the chest. Once again, she radiated a brilliant, shining light and a body fell to the floor, in the very spot where Harvey Strout had been minutes before. But it was not the old man.

Instead, the lifeless body of a middle-aged woman now lay there; Legion was still standing, shrieking with delight.

'Stupefy!' Harry spat. To everyone's surprise, his wand was pointed at Savage, who was thrown from his feet, and fell to the floor, unconscious. 'Don't try and kill her,' he shouted at the other Aurors. You'll only kill the people she's consumed.'

'You are good, Potter; I'll give you that. You're the first to understand; no-one can stop the Legion. I have done what the Dark Lord never did; I have created renewable immortality. Now if you'll excuse me, _we_ have much work to do.'

She pointed her wand at another unconscious witch, lying beside her, but before she could cast her spell, she had raised her wand to block a curse from Harry.

'We can't kill you,' said Harry, shaking with anger, wand still raised, 'but that doesn't mean we can't stop you.'

'You think you can withstand a duel against the power of the Legion, Harry Potter? I fear you are mistaken.'

'There are nine other Aurors here,' said Harry. 'There's a cell in Azkaban waiting for you.'

Legion smiled again. 'Not today.'

With a slash of her wand, she fired a string of curses through the air. In seconds, seven Aurors were down. Only Harry, Ron, and Neville remained; the three who wore Shield Belts.

They fired three separate hexes at Legion, but she parried them all with ease. With another slash of her wand, Neville whimpered, and fell to the floor, twitching.

'Ron, un-stun Savage,' Harry ordered. Ron turned to do as instructed, as Legion fired several curses at him. Harry blocked them all, but wasn't quick enough to prevent the next one.

'Abhorreo!' Legion cried. The curse hit Ron in the back, too powerful for his Shield Belt to deflect, knocking him to the ground; writhing in pain. 'Just you left, Potter.'

Harry said nothing. Instead, he slashed his own wand through the air, firing another curse at Legion. To his satisfaction, she looked surprised by its power, only just able to block it.

Another curse came back at him; he blocked it. Another; blocked; another; blocked. Harry fired three stunning spells at her, but none of them struck the target. She was undoubtedly a highly skilled duellist, and Harry realised that he could only defend himself for so long.

'Expelliarmus!' he shouted.

'Percutio!' said Legion.

The two spells struck each other in mid air, burning into each other. Harry held on tight to his wand, forcing himself not to back down. The Atrium floor grew hot and started cracking from the curses' heat.

Legion shrieked, pulled up her wand, and dived out of the way as the combined force of the spells flew towards her.

'I underestimated you, Harry Potter. You are a powerful wizard, indeed. But I do not have time for this; perhaps another day.'

She sliced the air with her wand, once more.

BOOM!

The same blinding light that knocked out the Atrium's denizens exploded for a second time, blinding Harry again. Through the ringing in his ears, he could just hear Legion's echoing voice taunting him. 'Try harder next time, Harry Potter.'

There was a distinctive pop, and with it, Harry knew she'd Disapparated.

x x x

'Where am I?' asked Ron, groggily, opening his eyes.

'St Mungo's, sweetheart,' said Mrs Weasley. She leant over him, and pressed a cool, damp flannel against his forehead. Harry was sitting beside the bed.

'What happened?'

'Percussion Curse,' said Harry. 'Makes your internal organs vibrate. The Healer said it was lucky you were wearing you're Shield Belt, or else it would've killed you.'

'Hurt like hell.'

'I'll bet.'

'What happened? Did you get her?'

'No, she Disapparated.'

'What about everyone in the Atrium? Are they ok?'

'Mostly. A few people have got head injuries or bruises from where they fell, but they'll mend.'

'And Dad?'

'He's fine,' said Mrs Weasley. 'Back at the office trying to straighten things out.'

'_What_ have you been doing?' shrieked Hermione. She had just entered the ward, was still wearing her school uniform, and looked very pale.

'What are you doing here?' asked Ron.

'You're in hospital!' she replied. 'Of course I'm here.'

'You didn't have to do that,' he said, trying to sit up. 'I'll be – ouch – fine... in a day or so. What about you're exams?'

'You're more important,' she said, flatly.

Ron grinned, and beckoned her over. Mrs Weasley gestured to Harry that they should step outside.

'Are you ok?' Hermione asked, as Harry passed her.

'Yeah, fine; just a headache. We'll be outside.'

He followed Mrs Weasley into the corridor, where Neville and several of the other Aurors were waiting. Neville's arm was in a sling, and his ribs were bandaged.

'Harry,' he said, 'this Legion... what are we going to do?'

'I don't know yet,' said Harry.

'I don't understand what she did to that man.'

'She absorbed him,' Harry explained. 'Merged him into her body; it prolongs her life each time she does it.'

'_Each_ time?'

'Yeah, I'd guess that she's done it a lot. Take the dead woman we saw; Savage's curse must've ripped her from Legion's body.'

'But it killed her, as well?'

'Yeah.' Harry sighed, and scratched his head.

'You mean,' said Fiona Wetlock, one of the other Aurors, 'the only way to kill Legion, would be to kill all the people she's consumed first?'

'It appears so.'

'I've never heard of any magic like that,' said Mrs Weasley.

'I know,' he replied. 'Where's Dumbledore when you need him, eh? Which reminds me, how did you all know to come and help?'

'We wanted to ask you that,' said Neville. 'How did you make your Patronus speak?'

'Did it?'

'Yeah, it galloped into the office, and just said "Help". We knew it was yours, so we came running.'

'I don't know,' said Harry. 'I've seen it done, but I've never done it myself before.'

'I thought Kingsley was going to teach you,' said Mrs Weasley.

'We never got round to it; one of us was always busy.'

'Sounds like you've got the basics, though,' said Fiona.

Harry snorted a laugh. He wasn't in the mood for much more than that; his mind was racing with ideas and worries.

'One more thing,' said Neville. 'Where's my sandwich?'


	11. Chapter 11: Graduation

**Chapter 11 – Graduation**

Eight weeks later, and despite having finally discovered Legion's identity, the Aurors' Office was no closer to tracking her down. After failing in her attack on the Ministry, she had gone underground, leaving Harry more frustrated by this than anyone.

'Why though?' he asked. 'Why would she reveal herself to us, and then disappear?'

'Because, she didn't mean to,' Hermione replied. 'She was trying to knock out everyone in the Atrium; she only failed because you and Ron were wearing Shield Belts.'

'Best Christmas present ever, by the way,' said Ginny.

'Mind out, Harry,' said Hermione, picking up a small log from the basket. 'I need to throw more wood on.'

Harry was kneeling over the hearth in Grimmauld Place, his head floating in the flames of the Gryffindor common room fireplace, where Ginny and Hermione were sitting.

'So have there been no sightings of her?' asked Ginny, as Hermione stoked the fire.

'Nope, nothing. Of course, it doesn't help that two Aurors are still desk-bound.'

'How is Ron?' asked Hermione.

'You've already asked me that three times, Hermione.'

'I know, but...'

'He's _fine_; he's just not allowed to do anything too active. Don't worry so much.'

'Are you kidding?' asked Ginny. 'Ever since the end of exams, she's not stopped worrying about him. It's like she can't cope anymore unless she's got something to stress about.'

'Oh don't be silly, Gin,' said Hermione. 'And why shouldn't I worry about him?'

'I never said you shouldn't.'

'Besides, after tomorrow, I won't have to.'

It was the night before the Hogwarts graduation ceremony. Only the seventh years and the teachers were still in the castle, as all the other students had returned home that morning.

'What time are you coming up?' Ginny asked.

'We've been allotted between ten o'clock and quarter past at the Hog's Head,' Harry replied. As there were so many parents, siblings, and other family members travelling to Hogsmeade for the graduation ceremony, the Floo Network Authority had allocated each family a time when they would be able to travel to one of the village's fireplaces, without causing a backlog.

'Is Ron going to be ok to travel?' said Hermione.

Harry's head fell (causing him to singe his eyebrows in the fire). '_Yes_, Hermione, we checked with the Healers. Not that they'd have been able to stop him, mind you; he was threatening to jinx anyone that tried to make him miss the ceremony. Have you _stopped_ wearing your bracelets?'

'No, look,' she said, pulling up her sleeves to reveal she was still had both of them on. 'But I think the charms've worn off.'

'You wore _through_ them, more like,' said Ginny with a smirk. Harry grinned, but Hermione ignored them.

'Just make sure he gets here in one piece, will you?'

'Yes, ma'am.'

Hermione rolled her eyes, and smiled. 'Thank you. Right, I'm off to bed. I'll see you in the morning, Harry.'

'Yeah, sleep tight.'

'Gin, don't stay up too late.'

'Oh, are you on to worrying about me now?' asked Ginny, with a grin. 'Don't panic, I'll be up in a bit.'

Hermione sighed, waved to Harry, and disappeared up the stairs to the girls' dormitory. Ginny turned back to Harry.

'How're your knees holding up?'

'They're ok. Kreacher seems to have put a cushion under me while we've been talking. Or at least, I hope it was Kreacher.'

Ginny let out a short laugh, but then her face became serious. 'Are you worried about Legion?'

'In general or right now?'

'Both.'

'In general, yes. Until we find a way to stop her, she's a threat.'

'And right now?'

'Not really; she's not tried anything in nearly two months, so I guess we've got some time.'

'Do you even know who she is yet?'

'Not really. We're fairly confident she's French, but that's about all.'

'Have you tried asking Madame Maxime at Beauxbatons?'

'We've tried, but we've not managed to get hold of her yet. Hagrid says she's away travelling for a few months, and our owls keep coming back without finding her.'

'You'd think they would,' said Ginny, reasonably. 'I mean – she's big enough.'

'Exactly. I'm sure it's just a massive oversight.'

'Pun intended?'

'Obviously.'

Ginny smiled. 'So I read the book...'

'Oh yeah, what did you think?'

Egbert Binns' book had been released the previous week. It had been reported by _The Daily Prophet_ that it had sold out at Flourish and Blotts within a matter of hours, and was being praised as the definitive work on the final year of the war.

'I liked it,' said Ginny, thoughtfully. 'Made you seem, you know, heroic but modest.'

'I've always said my modesty was my best feature,' Harry smirked.

'What did Ron think?'

'Are you kidding? He's _loving_ the attention. He's talking about printing up business cards with _Ron Weasley – Horcrux Smasher_ on them.'

'Make sure he doesn't, won't you?'

'Yeah, I talked him out of it pretty quickly. What did Hermione think?'

'She was complaining about the "quality of the prose" or something, but she did agree that the facts are accurate.'

'Hasn't she been getting any attention from it then?'

'Of course she has, but you know what she's like; she's just happy that it means she has her own index card in the library.'

Harry smiled. 'Anyway, Hermione's probably right...'

'...Don't say that out loud, she might hear you...'

'...We should probably get some sleep for tomorrow.'

'Yeah, and I've got to get up early to do my hair.'

'What? That doesn't usually take you that long.'

'I've also got to help Hermione with hers.'

'Ah, ok.'

They grinned at each other again. 'I'll see you in the morning,' said Ginny.

'Can't wait; air-kiss?'

'Air-kiss.'

She leant towards his face, as close as she could get without burning herself on the flames, and they blew a kiss to each other.

'Sleep tight,' said Harry.

'You too.'

x x x

The following morning, Harry and Ron woke, washed, dressed, and Apparated to the Burrow, where the rest of the Weasleys (less Bill and Fleur who were already at Hogwarts) were waiting in the kitchen, along with Mr and Mrs Granger, who kept anxiously glancing at the fireplace. Hermione had explained the Floo Network to them, but Harry could tell they weren't eager to try it out.

Mrs Weasley's mood was alternating between proud excitement and nostalgic weeping. This was to be the first graduation ceremony she'd be attending since Percy's, as Fred, George, and Ron had all failed to make it to their own. She was very proud that Ginny was completing her education, but at the same time, lamenting the fact that the last of her children was growing up. When the boys arrived, they found the two mothers comparing photograph albums in the living room.

'Oh calm down Mum,' said George. 'Ginny grew up ages ago. Isn't that right, Harry?'

Harry spluttered into his pumpkin juice, and George grinned, mischievously, as he mopped himself up.

At ten o'clock, the group started entering the fireplace, disappearing one by one (except for Harry, who was joined by Mr Granger, and Ron who was joined by Mrs Granger), and reappearing in the dusty room of the Hog's Head.

'Eurgh,' said Mr Granger, steadying himself on a nearby table. 'I'd rather not do that again.'

'Alright, Ab?' said Harry, greeting the barman, with a handshake.

'Keeping well, Harry; keeping well. What about yourself? Staying out of trouble?'

'Not for a minute.'

'Good man.'

Harry smiled, and led Mr Granger out into the village where the others were waiting.

'But – wait – where did the pub go?' said Mr Granger, looking around as he stepped outside, thoroughly confused.

'All here?' said Mr Weasley.

'Yeah, we were last to leave,' said Harry. 'But – er – I suspect Mr Granger can't see the village.'

'Oh yes, of course. One minute...' Mr Weasley withdrew his wand, and raised it to Mr Granger. 'Don't worry, David, this won't hurt; I have to place an enchantment on you and Jean; otherwise, you won't be able to see the castle – let alone enter it.'

Mr Granger looked anxious. 'What are you going to do?'

'Just a standard divulgement charm; nothing to be afraid of.'

'You're sure it's safe?' asked Mrs Granger.

'Absolutely,' said Mr Weasley, 'perfectly safe. Perfectly – I should imagine...'

Mr Granger opened his mouth, as though wanting to protest, but it was too late. Mr Weasley had already tapped Mr Granger's forehead with his wand, muttering '_Revelabis Hogsmeade,_' as he did so, and quickly performed the same spell on Mrs Granger.

'Oh my,' gasped Mrs Granger, staring around herself. 'These shops, they're... they're...'

'Forgive me,' said Mr Weasley, 'I'd entirely forgotten that you wouldn't be able to see the village. I should've done the charm back the house.'

'They're incredible,' she gasped, staring in through the window of Honeydukes. 'Far too much sugar though.'

'We should get a move on, Arthur,' said Mrs Weasley, watching other families appearing from the shops and walking up the street towards the school.

'Ah, yes indeed. Percy, lead the way.'

They started walking up the street, and were soon joined by Xenophilius Lovegood as he emerged from Zonko's. Ron was walking behind everyone else, and Harry dropped back to check up on him.

'You alright?'

'Yeah, fine,' said Ron. 'Just can't go much faster than this – or at least, not without getting a stitch.'

'Cool; I had to ask...'

'...Is she still making you check up on me?'

'She is.'

Ron chuckled to himself. 'Mad woman; doubt she'll even let me out of bed for the next few days.' Harry raised an eyebrow. 'Because she thinks I'm _ill_,' Ron added. 'Mind you...'

Harry was still laughing at Ron's optimism as the party reached the gate. It was already open today, and Hagrid was standing guard, ticking people off a long list of guests as they passed through.

'Mornin' all,' he said, cheerfully. His eyes settled on Mr and Mrs Granger. 'Ah, yeh must be Hermione's parents; nice ter meet yeh. Very bright girl, yer daughter. Yeh should be very proud.'

Mrs Granger was lost for words, stunned by the sheer size of Hagrid, and Mr Granger only just managed to squeak out, 'thank you'.

They followed the path up to the castle, and saw that a stage had been erected in front of the main doors, with row upon row of chairs set out facing it. Parents were weaving between the seats, mingling; many, despite their children's friendships, meeting for the first time.

'It's about time,' said Ginny, when they finally reached the school. 'We were beginning to think you'd got lost.'

Hermione hugged her parents, before giving Ron a much fuller kiss than he was expecting in front of their parents. Ginny kissed Harry, and received one big group-hug from the Weasleys. Both girls were wearing their school robes and hats for the ceremony, though Harry could tell Ginny was also wearing heels, as she was almost as tall as him.

'Are you sure you're alright?' Hermione was asking Ron. 'Do you want to sit down?'

'Merlin's beard, woman! They let me out of hospital four weeks ago; I'm sure I'm allowed to stand for a few minutes.' Although he sounded exasperated, it was apparent in his face that Ron was actually quite pleased by Hermione's concern.

Hagrid came up the path; all the names ticked off his list, and went to whisper to Professor McGonagall. She nodded, and pointed her wand at her throat, muttering 'Sonorus'.

'Here we go,' said Harry.

'Ladies and gentlemen,' boomed McGonagall's magically magnified voice, 'please take your seats for the ceremony. Teachers, students, please take yours as well.'

There was a momentary shuffling, as everyone found their seats, and made themselves comfortable. The students were seated in the front three rows, all in their robes, while the teachers were sitting on the stage, looking out over the crowd of students and parents. To the left of the Headmistress's chair, sat Professor Flitwick, and to the right, was Kingsley Shacklebolt. At the front of the stage stood the golden owl-podium, which had been moved out from the Great Hall. Professor McGonagall stepped up to it, and spoke again.

'Good morning,' she said, her voice still amplified, 'it is my great honour to welcome you all here, to celebrate the graduating class of 1999.

'But today we do more than simply applaud the academic achievement of our students. Today, I wish them to leave here with something just as valuable as their exam results: _Hope_.

'Eighteen months ago, we had lost our hope. Our world drowned in darkness, unable to find a way back to the light. We were beaten; suppressed by fear and overwhelmed by terror. All because we'd lost hope.

'But then, it was restored to us. When Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger returned to this castle on May 1st, it was hope they brought with them.'

Harry smiled at Ron, whose ears had gone very red. Several rows in front, Hermione was slouched down in her seat, trying to avoid everyone's gaze. McGonagall continued.

'Now, I'm sure that in the last few weeks, many of you will have read reports of a dark witch, who calls herself "Legion". I imagine many of you have been scared by what you've heard. Is she powerful? _Yes_. Is she dangerous? _Yes_. Is she to be feared? _Perhaps_. But even if we do fear her, we can still resist her.

'Evil only succeeds in this world when good does nothing to prevent it, and believe me when I tell you that _hope_ is the greatest weapon we have. Hope brings us courage, and courage brings action. If you leave here today with hope, then I am confident we will stand together against whatever threatens us.'

Applause erupted through the gathered crowd. Everyone seemed to swell with belief at McGonagall's words, and even Mr and Mrs Granger, who had never heard of Legion, were clapping, enthusiastically. The headmistress waited for the applause to end before speaking again.

'Thank you,' she said. 'We must now move on to the business of our academic presentations. For those who have not attended a Hogwarts graduation ceremony before, allow me to explain the process. The heads of house will read out the list of graduands, and as their names are read out, the students will proceed on to the stage, one by one, to accept their award from me. I'm told there are also several special awards that will be presented as their recipients are called up. Professor Flitwick, if you please...'

Professor McGonagall stepped back from the podium, and conjured a small step ladder out of thin air. Professor Flitwick climbed up it, placed his list on the podium, and tapped his wand to his throat.

'Headmistress, Minister, ladies, gentlemen, and students,' he began. Harry found it odd that, despite his magically magnified voice, Flitwick still seemed to speak in his familiar high pitched tone. 'The following are the Ravenclaw students who have acquired a sufficient number of N.E.W.T.s to graduate this year. Felicity Eastchurch...'

Everyone applauded as Felicity made her way on to the stage, shook hands first with Professor Flitwick and then with Professor McGonagall, who also handed her a scroll of parchment with a ribbon tied around it.

'...Harvey Edgecoombe...' Harvey followed in Felicity's footsteps, before re-taking his seat, beaming, and clutching his scroll. Professor Flitwick continued to read out the names, as Simon Davies and Duncan Inglebee received their awards. He paused for a moment, before he announced the next one. 'The recipient of the Rowena Ravenclaw Award for Lateral Thinking; Luna Lovegood...'

Harry and Ron both got to their feet to cheer for Luna, and Harry gave a quick salute to Mr Lovegood, as Luna skipped happily across the stage.

Once Latisha Randall, Hemani Roshan, and Jason Samuels had also received their awards, Professor Flitwick sat down, and Professor Slughorn took his place at the podium, reading out the names of the Slytherin graduates. After Slughorn came Professor Sprout, with the Hufflepuffs, before finally, Bill got up to announce the Gryffindors.

'Headmistress, the following are the Gryffindor students who have acquired a sufficient number of N.E.W.T.s to graduate this year. Vicky Frobisher...' Vicky made her way across the stage, and Bill paused, as Flitwick had done, before reading the next name. 'The Recipient of the Headmistress's Award for Outstanding Academic Achievement; Hermione Granger...'

The Grangers, the Weasleys, and Harry, whooped and cheered as Hermione crossed the stage, received her handshake from Bill, and then a hug and her scroll from Professor McGonagall. Mrs Weasley got to her feet to take a photograph of Hermione, with her battered old camera.

Once Bill had called up Andrew Kirke, Eloise Midgen, Wayne Portchester, Jack Sloper, and Yuvraj Suri, there was only one name left.

'And finally,' said Bill, 'Gryffindor's Quidditch cup winning captain, and new signing for the Holyhead Harpies; Ginny Weasley.'

All the Gryffindors cheered as Ginny stepped on to the stage, as did the Weasleys, though Harry and Ron were both stunned by the news.

'When did she sign for the Harpies?' Ron shouted over the cheers, getting to his feet to applaud too.

'Don't know!' Harry replied, also on his feet, clapping. 'She hadn't told me. Did you know, Charlie?'

'Nope,' Charlie replied. 'Guess she was keeping it as a surprise.'

Bill hugged Ginny, before she received her handshake and scroll from McGonagall. Mrs Weasley had welled up again but was still beaming up at her daughter, and taking more photographs.

Once Ginny had sat back down, Professor McGonagall returned to the podium, smiling down at the students. 'Congratulations to you all,' she said. 'Now, before I bring the ceremony to a close, in light of recent revelations, Minister Shacklebolt has requested that two further presentations be made today. Minister...'

'I don't suppose you know anything about this either, do you?' Ron muttered to Harry.

'Nope,' Harry lied. 'I didn't even know Kingsley was coming today.' In truth, he knew exactly what was about to happen, but he didn't want to give it away.

The Minister of Magic stepped up to the podium, wearing his flowing purple dress-robes, and silently tapped his throat with his wand. 'Thank you, Headmistress,' he said, his voice now magically magnified as well, 'and congratulations to you all! It gives me tremendous pleasure to be here today; I dare say many of you will have read a book that was published recently by a Mr Egbert Binns. For those who haven't, the book chronicles the events that led to the end of the Second Wizarding War, and specifically the heroic actions taken by Mr Harry Potter, Mr Ronald Weasley, and Miss Hermione Granger.

'As many of you will remember, last year, I awarded Mr Potter with the Order of Merlin for his role in Voldemort's downfall to represent just a small thank you from the Ministry.' Many people in the crowd trembled as Kingsley said the name, but Kingsley ignored this, and carried on.

'However, following the release of Mr Binns' book, it has been agreed by all the senior members of the Ministry, that this honour should be extended. Therefore, it's a great privilege for me to present the Order of Merlin, first class, to Mr Ron Weasley and Miss Hermione Granger.'

Ron's mouth fell open as applause broke out once again. He seemed to be frozen to his chair, and it took both Harry and Charlie to help him to his feet and set him walking towards the stage. A few rows in front, Hermione was experiencing the same level of shock, and Ginny was guiding her to the end of the row, where she and Ron took each others' hands, and walked up to the stage together.

There was a loud whoop from Harry and the Weasleys; Mrs Weasley and Mrs Granger were in tears; Mr Weasley was shaking hands with Mr Granger, while simultaneously trying to explain what an Order of Merlin was.

On the stage, Kingsley shook Ron's hand, kissed Hermione on the cheek, and presented each of them with a medal.

'I can see you're both a little lost for words,' said Kingsley, with a smile. 'Fortunately, Harry has written down a few thoughts, which he's asked me to read on his behalf.' He withdrew a handwritten note from his robes, and read it aloud.

'Harry writes; _if it was not for the support, knowledge, and bravery of Ron and Hermione, I'm sure that I wouldn't be alive today. They have been my best friends, roommates, classmates, colleagues, and agony aunts, and I hope they will be in my life for many years to come. The Order of Merlin will never be enough to express their true value, both to me, and the wizarding community, but it _is_ one small symbol, and I'm delighted that they are to receive it today._ Congratulations to you both.'

When Kingsley had finished, a few people were dabbing handkerchiefs to their eyes (most notably Hagrid, whose tumultuous sniffing gave him away), and everyone else broke out into applause once more. Ron and Hermione looked over everyone's heads to Harry. They were still holding hands; her in silent-tears; his ears now a vivid crimson. Charlie patted Harry on the back, and Mrs Weasley pulled him into a hug, immediately followed by Mrs Granger.

Professor McGonagall returned to the podium once again, her voice now beginning to sound a little hoarse. 'And with that, I declare this ceremony officially closed. Thank you all for coming, and congratulations to our new graduates.'

x x x

'Why didn't you tell me about the Harpies?' asked Harry.

'Well,' said Ginny, 'if you'd have come to the last Quidditch match, rather than staying in London to chase shadows, you might have seen the scout who came to watch me.'

Harry snorted a laugh. 'I was wondering when that would come up. I guess it was a good game for her to see, since you flattened Ravenclaw by about ninety points.'

'I think that did help, yes.' Ginny grinned.

With the ceremony over, everyone had moved into the Great Hall, where the house elves had prepared a magnificent buffet lunch. Harry and Ginny were in a relatively quiet corner by the main door.

'When do you begin training?'

'I've got two weeks for a holiday, and then I start.'

'Ahh, that's great, Gin; I'm so proud of you. See, it's not just me that gets solid offers to join the professional teams.'

'Yeah yeah, I know.' She grinned, and Harry gave her a kiss. Ron and Hermione came over to join them, having not yet had a chance to speak to Harry since the ceremony ended. Hermione still had tear tracks running down her cheeks.

'Harry... I...' she began, but she couldn't find the words to express herself. Fortunately, Ron could.

'Thanks mate,' he said. Harry grinned, pulling them both into a hug.

'No worries.'

'Oh, Gin,' said Ron, 'come with me; Mum wants a family photo.'

'Ok,' she replied, 'we'll catch up with you two in a bit.'

They disappeared into the crowd, leaving Harry and Hermione together.

'So,' said Harry, 'Headmistress's award, eh? Guess that _officially_ makes you the teacher's pet.'

'Oh shut up,' she said, swiping a hand at him, but smiling nonetheless.

'How does it feel to be leaving?'

'Weird. How does it feel to be back?'

'Weird.'

They stood in silence for a moment, before Harry thought of something he wanted to do.

'I just want to get some air. Can you cover for me for a minute?'

'Yeah, why? Where are you going?'

'Just down to the lake; I'll be back.'

He slipped out of the hall, walked down the stairs into the entrance hall, and out across the grounds. After a few minutes, he arrived at his destination; Dumbledore's tomb, beside the lake. He stared at the white marble, hesitating over whether or not he was being silly. After a moment's consideration, he decided that he wasn't, and placed a hand on the marble.

'Hello sir,' he said quietly. He paused for a moment, and smiled to himself. 'Fine; thanks for asking.

'Except – there's a new dark witch called Legion. She knows dark magic that no-one else has even heard of, and I have _no idea_ how to stop her – or at least, not without killing _all_ of her victims.' He paused again, looking out over the lake. 'I could really do with another of your "brilliant guesses". Oh, and I made my Patronus speak, by the way. Except I don't know how, and I've not been able to do it since. I guess I can find someone else to help me with that though...' He looked up again to see the giant squid splashing about in the water. 'I can't believe it's been two years already,' he said quietly.

'_Time flies like a arrow_,' said a voice behind Harry, '_fruit flies like a banana_.'

Harry looked around to see Professor McGonagall standing a few feet behind him.

'What?' said Harry.

'_Time flies like an arrow; fruit flies like a banana_,' she repeated. 'Dumbledore told me that several years ago. Something he'd picked up from a muggle entertainer, I believe. Albus always did have an eye for the absurd.'

'I liked your address,' said Harry. 'Do you really think hope will be enough against Legion?'

McGonagall smiled. 'Harry, for most of the people who were seated in that audience, _you_ are their hope. Is that going to be enough to help _you_ through what's coming? Perhaps not. But the fact that you're out fighting every day brings hope to people you've not even met.'

'Then what about me? How do I find the courage to face her.'

'Come now, Harry. You don't have to find it; you've had it since the very first time you walked through the castle doors. Your strength is your _will_, Harry; your determination to stand up to adversity.'

Harry considered this for a moment, staring out across the lake. 'Dumbledore would've said that love was my strength.'

'Of course it is,' said McGonagall. 'Love is what drives your will; just look at what you wrote about Mr Weasley and Miss Granger today. You have so many people that you love, Harry, and who love you. That's why you fight, and that's why they – excuse me – why _we_ fight beside you.'

Harry smiled. 'Thanks, Professor.'

'You're most welcome. Now...' She withdrew her wand, and with a flick, a silver cat with spectacle markings burst from the tip, and settled itself on the tomb.

It opened its mouth, and, with Professor McGonagall's own voice, said, 'what seems to be the problem with your Patronus?'


	12. Chapter 12: Miss Granger Goes To London

**Chapter 12 – Miss Granger Goes To London**

It was a warm, Sunday afternoon, and deep beneath the streets of London there was only one populated office within the Ministry of Magic; five Aurors were on duty, and using the time to fill out paperwork.

'This just came for you,' said Savage, dropping an envelope down on Harry's desk. As punishment for the killing curse incident during Legion's attack, Proudfoot had reassigned Savage to office administration.

'Thanks,' Harry replied, without looking up from his notes.

'So, Ron,' said Savage. 'How're you feeling about tomorrow?'

'How do you mean?' he replied.

'Y'know,' said Neville, looking up from his desk. 'Working with the missus.'

After nearly six weeks of trying to choose between offers, Hermione had finally picked the job she wanted. The day after graduation, thirty different owls had arrived at Grimmauld Place, each carrying a different job offer. Professor McGonagall had offered her a position in the Transfiguration department; Flourish & Blotts had invited her to become shop manager for their new Hogsmeade branch; The Department of Mysteries had invited her to become an Unspeakable (something she'd quickly ruled out after they'd refused to tell her anything about the post); St Mungo's had proposed she study to become a Healer, and Kingsley had offered her a position as his liaison with the muggle Prime Minister.

However, in the end, she had turned them all down, in favour of the job she really wanted.

'The Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures?' Ron had said, bewildered. 'I don't get it; of all the things you were offered?'

'It's not like I'm the coffee girl,' Hermione had replied. 'I'll be deputy-head of department. It's a really senior position, especially for someone just out of Hogwarts.'

'You sound like Percy,' Ginny had muttered; Harry had sniggered into his teacup.

'Then why not take the liaison job for Kingsley?' Ron had asked.

'I did think about it,' said Hermione, 'but really, the only time we tell the Prime Minister anything is when something bad's happened, and I want to do more than that. Something important, and this way, I'll be able to continue my work with S.P.E.W.'

'Fair enough,' Ron had sighed, rolling his eyes.

Ron put his quill down on his desk. 'First of all,' he said, 'Hermione's not my missus; she's my girlfriend. Secondly, we're not exactly working together, are we? We're on Level Two, and she'll be on Level Four. We'll probably only see each other at lunch.'

'Don't be so sure,' said Fiona Wetlock, 'my husband works all the way down on Level Seven, but I still bump into him three or four times a day.'

Ron looked taken aback. 'Three or four times?'

'Yep – and that's on a slow day.'

'Hey,' said Savage, 'at least you're not living together yet; you'll still have some time apart.'

'Actually,' said Harry, 'Hermione _and_ Ginny moved in with us three weeks ago.'

'Oh,' said Savage, looking down at his shoes. 'Well, good luck mate.' He gave Ron an encouraging pat on the shoulder.

'Ignore them, Ron,' said Neville. 'It's not like Hermione's – well – _Lavender_.'

Ron snorted a laugh, but before he could reply, Harry had jumped up excitedly.

'It's from her!' he exclaimed, holding up the letter.

'What is?' asked Ron.

'This.'

'That?'

'Yes, this; it's from her.'

'Who's her?'

'Madame Maxime.'

'Oh,' said Ron, jumping up too. '_Her_. What's it say?'

Harry passed him the letter so he could read it for himself.

_Harry,_

_My apologies; I did not realise your owls would be unable to reach me while I was away, but it seems your phoenix has._

_I am to stay at the Leaky Cauldron on Friday evening on my way back to the Academy. I would be happy to meet with you there._

_Regards,_

_Olympe Maxime_

'Did you read that with a French accent in your head?' asked Ron.

'Yep,' said Harry. 'You?'

'Yep.'

They finished work at six o'clock when the nightshift arrived, said goodbye to the others, and took the floo network back to Grimmauld Place.

'We're home,' Harry called out.

'About time too,' said Ginny, entering the kitchen while trying to put her earrings in. 'Hurry up and change; _we__'__re_ ready to go.'

Harry and Ron did as they were told, and trundled off up the stairs to put on their smart muggle clothes. The girls had decided that to celebrate Hermione's new job they should all go for a meal, and Hermione had chosen a muggle restaurant in the West End.

'This is so weird,' said Ron, looking at himself in the mirror. 'Why's it all one colour?'

'It's a suit, Ron,' said Harry. 'It's supposed to be one colour.'

'I think you look very handsome,' said Hermione. Ron's ears went pink.

A few minutes later, after Ron had gone through a severe disagreement with his tie (ultimately deciding that it was impossible to get the knot right, and subsequently set it alight with his wand), they were ready to leave, the girls in cocktail dresses, and the boys in their suits.

'Right, come on,' said Hermione, leading them towards the front door.

'Aren't we taking the floo?' said Ron.

'It's a _muggle_ restaurant, Ron,' said Ginny. 'Even if it was connected to the network, how do you think the muggles would react to four people bursting out of the fireplace?'

'I was only asking,' Ron muttered.

They stepped out into the street, and Hermione held her right hand up in the air. There was a distant sound of an exhaust backfiring, and Ron winced. With a loud bang, the violently purple, triple-decker, Knight Bus screeched to a halt in-front of them. A familiar man – thin, slightly pimpled, and jug-earred – leapt down on to the pavement.

'Welcome to the...' he began, but he was cut off by Ron.

'Do we have to?' he asked Hermione. 'You know I can't bear this thing.'

Stan Shunpike, though slightly surprised to have been so rudely interrupted, eyed his new patrons, eventually settling on Harry.

'Billowin' bowtruckles,' he said, 'if it ain't 'Arry Potter.'

'Hello Stan,' said Harry, 'How're you?'

'Keepin' well, fanks, keepin' well,' Stan replied. 'Four of you, is it? That'll be two galleons, ten sickles.'

Harry paid for everyone, and they got on the bus. The bottom deck had the familiar beds in place; at the front, a wizard was sat up in one, sipping hot chocolate and wearing striped pyjama. Two beds from him was a sleeping witch, whose hat seemed to have fallen over her face while the bus was in transit. Harry and Ron glanced at each other, eyebrows raised.

'Oh yeah, sorry,' said Stan, 'shudda said; there's still armchairs out upstairs. Where are you all off to?'

'Covent Garden, please,' said Hermione.

'Hey, we've got a muggle stop, Ern. Can't remember the last time we 'ad one o'them. I was wonderin' why you were wearin' them funny clothes.'

They made their way to the top deck, and Harry, Hermione, and Ginny took their seats, but Ron remained standing; eying his with suspicion.

'What's wrong?' asked Hermione.

'Last time I was on this thing my chair fell over,' he said.

'Oh, I can fix _that_,' she replied, withdrawing her wand, and pointing it at the chair legs. '_Agglutino_.' She repeated this spell on each of their seats.

'What was that?' asked Harry.

'Temporary sticking charm,' she replied. 'Just remind me to remove them before we get off.'

'All ready up there?' Stan shouted up the stairs.

'Yes,' Harry shouted back.

BANG!

They were off, Harry was thrown back into his seat as the bus lurched forward. He glanced out of his window, and saw that they were dashing through the Lake District.

'Looks like we're taking the scenic route,' he said to Ginny. She half smiled at him, but he could see she had a tight grip on her chair's arms, and looked as though it was taking all her efforts not to throw up.

After making stops in Aberdeen, Taunton, Lincoln, and Aberglaslyn, the bus screeched to a halt in Covent Garden. The four of them staggered down the stairs to get off, each looking like they'd been struck with a jelly-legs jinx. Once they'd regained their balance, Hermione led them over the road, and into the restaurant.

They were seated by the waitress, and each handed a copy of the menu. A few minutes later, when the waitress came back to take their orders, Ron, having not recognised anything on the menu, just pointed to something at random and asked for that. When their food eventually came, he waited until the waitress was out of ear shot, before asking, 'What's this I've ordered?'

'That's a pizza, Ron,' Hermione sighed. 'Honestly Harry, I can't believe the two of you have been living together for a year, and you still haven't had a pizza.'

'I've got no muggle money, have I?' Harry whispered. 'Gringotts still won't let me in. Besides, Kreacher's been preparing most of our meals.' Hermione frowned slightly, when Harry mentioned the house elf, but she didn't pass comment.

'Have _you_ got some muggle money?' asked Ron, glancing at her, and trying to keep his voice down.

'Yes,' she replied, 'believe it or not, Ginny and I plan ahead.'

Ginny had picked up her fork, and cut into the nearest corner of her dish.

'Yours is a lasagne, by the way,' Harry told her. She smiled at him, bemused.

'I've had lasagne before,' she said.

'Have you?'

'Yeah, on holiday last year, remember?'

'Oh yeah,' said Harry, nostalgically, 'at that place by the beach; I'd forgotten about that.'

'_Wow_,' said Ron, a little too loudly. He had just taken a bite of his pizza, and the people at the next table stared over at him.

'Not so loud,' Harry muttered.

'Sorry,' Ron whispered, 'it's just – this is incredible.'

'I'm glad you like it,' said Hermione. 'Now, Gin, how's training going?'

They talked for a few hours, about Ginny's Quidditch training (being careful not to mention words like "flying" or "broomsticks" too loudly), laughing about old stories from school, or talking about work. Hermione was especially pleased to hear that Harry was to meet up with Madame Maxime at the end of the week ('that's excellent news; now we might actually learn something about Legion.'). Eventually, the waitress came back over.

'Can I get you anything else?' she asked.

'Yes,' said Harry. 'Four glasses of champagne, please.'

The waitress nodded, disappeared into the kitchen, and came back a few minutes later with four glasses.

'What's this for?' asked Ron.

'And how come I'm the one paying for it?' asked Hermione, with a grin.

Harry laughed. 'It's for making a toast,' he said, 'and I'll pay you back.'

'Oh, lovely,' said Ginny, picking up her glass. 'What're we drinking to?'

'To old friends and new beginnings,' said Harry, raising his own. The others smiled.

'Old friends and new beginnings,' they repeated, clinking their glasses together.

'Thanks Harry,' said Hermione, smiling at him. 'I'll just go and pay, and then we can go.'

'Fine,' said Ron, lowering his voice, 'but can we please Disapparate home? I don't think my stomach can take another bus trip.'

x x x

The following morning, Harry woke up, and reached his hand across the bed to cuddle Ginny. To his surprise however, he found that her side of the bed was empty. He got up, put on his dressing gown, and went down to the kitchen.

'Oh,' he said, as he entered. 'I take it I'm the last one up then.'

Both Ron and Hermione were already dressed for work, and sat eating eggs and bacon; Ginny was sitting at the end of the table, in her dressing gown, sipping tea from a mug.

'Morning,' she yawned.

'How come you're up so early?' he replied. 'I thought you weren't training 'til half ten today?'

'I'm not, but I've got to pop into Madam Malkin's and have my Quidditch robes re-hemmed.'

'Oh yeah, you told me the other day.'

'Tea, Harry?' asked Hermione.

'Please.'

At five minutes to nine, Harry, Ron and Hermione said goodbye to Ginny, and stepped into the fireplace one by one, disappearing in a burst of green flame. They re-emerged from the fireplaces in the Atrium corridor, and walked past the fountain together.

'Can you remember the last time we were here together,' asked Ron.

'Yeah,' said Harry. 'Hopefully we won't get chased out of the building this time.'

They reached the golden-gated lifts, and Harry gave Hermione a hug. 'Have a good day,' he said, 'and remember: you don't have to change the whole world before lunch.'

She smiled, and thanked him, before receiving another hug from Ron. He didn't say anything, but smiled and took a deep-breath through his nose; his eyes wide and brows raised. She smiled back, and gave him a kiss.

'I'll see you later,' she said to them both. She stepped into a vacant lift compartment, pressed the button for her floor, and turned back to face them. 'Work hard.'

The lift lurched backwards, whisking her away to level four. Harry and Ron stepped into their own compartment, and pressed the button marked "2".

They didn't see Hermione for the rest of the morning, and she sent a note just before lunch to say she was busy and wouldn't be able to meet them. However, word of her impact swept through the Ministry.

At eleven o'clock, Neville came into the office to tell them that Hermione had ordered a departmental study on the treatment of British house-elves. At half-past one, she had sent Mr Weasley a memo proposing he close a legal loop-hole she'd found that allowed the trading of imported dragon eggs in Scotland. By quarter-to four, she had drafted a new law safeguarding Hippogriffs against execution (specifically in cases where they had lashed out after being verbally or physically provoked).

'What on earth is she going to do tomorrow?' asked Ron.

'I don't know,' said Harry. 'Turn water into wine?'

'We can all do that,' Ron tutted. 'That's third year transfiguration, that is.'

'No, you're missing the point...'

At five o'clock, Harry and Ron packed up their things, left the office, and took a lift back to the Atrium, where they'd agreed to meet Hermione. However, when they got there, Hermione wasn't alone. Instead, she was joined by Kingsley Shacklebolt, and two elderly wizards that Harry didn't recognise.

'Really Minister, I must insist,' said the first man.

'This sort of thing is most unheard of,' said the second.

'Now now gentlemen,' said Kingsley, 'I'm sure Miss Granger's proposals are good-willed.'

'It's an outrage!' the second man exclaimed.

'Quite right,' said the first man. 'What business is it of yours, or mine for that matter, how someone wishes to make use of their own house-elf?'

'This isn't about "making use" of them,' said Hermione, hotly, 'it's about cruelty to living creatures.'

'Nonsense,' snapped the first man. 'It's about a muggle-born witch not liking the way things have been done for centuries.'

Hermione twitched, as though about to grab her wand to hex the old man, but Kingsley held his arm out in front of her.

'Silvester, I won't have you speaking to my employees likes that,' he said. His voice was calm, but strict, and Silvester and his associate seemed quite surprised that the conversation had suddenly turned against them. 'If you have an objection to a Ministry proposal, I will ask you to take it through the proper channels, rather than accosting individual Ministry members.'

'Oh we have,' said the second man. 'We have a hearing booked for Wednesday afternoon.'

'Then we shall see you there, Edgar,' said Kingsley. 'In the meantime, I'll ask you to leave the Ministry.'

'Very well,' snapped Edgar. 'Good day Minister. Come along Sylvester.'

The two gentlemen left, and Harry and Ron hurried over to Hermione and Kingsley.

'What was all that about?' asked Ron.

'The Traditional Wizarding Values Alliance,' Hermione spat.

'The what?' asked Harry.

'They're a group of elderly witches and wizards,' said Ron. 'They – er – don't like change. Especially when it depowers the old pure-blood families.'

'They sound like the Death Eaters,' said Harry, shocked.

'They're not quite that bad,' said Hermione, 'but they're not far off.'

'Come now, Hermione,' said Kingsley, 'they're just stuck in their ways. Our job is to show them that not everything's so perfect as it is. As for those two – well – Silvester Horton's always been difficult; his grandfather Horatio used to be Minister for Magic, so Silvester believes he's entitled to walk around the Ministry like he owns the place.'

'Sounds like Malfoy,' said Harry.

'As for Edgar Pepperidge,' said Kingsley, 'he's the personification of old fashioned. After the invention of the Wolfsbane potion, Pepperidge was a staunch opponent to the ban on Werewolf Hunting – claimed it would lead to a "werewolf in every home".'

'Idiot,' Ron muttered. He turned to Hermione. 'So what's their problem with you?'

'They don't like my elfish welfare proposals,' said Hermione. 'If it passes, people would have to take better care of their elves, and Horton and Pepperidge think it would be "an unreasonable increase to living costs".'

'Idiots,' Ron repeated. 'We look after Kreacher; make sure he's got food and a bed. Doesn't cost us that much, does it?'

'While I'm sure that's true,' said Kingsley, 'you have to bear in mind that a lot of families who own house-elves wouldn't even think to _feed_ theirs. They'd think any gold spent on an elf would be a waste.'

'Well, we'll come to the hearing,' said Harry, decisively.

'Yeah,' Ron agreed, 'help make you're case.'

Hermione smiled, and flung her arms around him. 'Thank-you-thank-you-thank-you,' she garbled, hugging Harry as well. 'Right, I've got to go and get some books from my office, to help build my argument. Go on without me; I'll see you at home.'

x x x

On Wednesday afternoon, a woman with greying brown hair and beedy eyes picked up a gavel, and banged it on her desk. 'I now call this hearing to order,' she said. 'For those of you that don't know me, I'm Rosalyn Scamander; head of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures – I'll be chairing this hearing today. We're here to discuss whether or not the Ministry ought to proceed with plans for elfish welfare reforms, as proposed by my department.'

They were in the smallest courtroom, but it was still quite full. Aside from Madam Scamander, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Mr Horton & Mr Pepperidge, there were also eleven members of the Wizengamot present who were to decide the fate of Hermione's proposals.

'Miss Granger,' said Madam Scamander, 'you drew up these proposals; we have them here. Your plans would make it mandatory to offer payment to house-elves, should they want it; would provide mandatory annual health checks at St Mungo's for all house-elves; and would officially outlaw all forms of physical and verbal abuse towards elf-kind by wand carriers. Is this correct?'

'Yes, Madam Chairwoman,' Hermione replied.

'Do you have anything you wish to add by way of an opening statement?'

'Yes, thank you.' Hermione got to her feet. She, Ron and Harry were sat behind a small desk, looking up at Madam Scamander and the members of the Wizengamot. Messrs Horton and Pepperidge were seated at an adjacent table, looking irritable. 'Ladies and gentlemen, I ask you, is it right for us to take without giving anything in return? Is it right for us to enslave an entire race, just because they're willing to serve? Is it right for us to care less about their welfare than we would the family owl? I say that it's _not_. We should care about these creatures; if they enjoy the work, then that's all very well, but that doesn't mean they shouldn't be protected from harm, by law. That is what my proposals are for.'

She sat back down, and Ron patted her arm, encouragingly.

'Thank you, Miss Granger,' said Madam Scamander. 'Mr Pepperidge, do you have a statement on behalf of the T.W.V.A?'

'I do indeed,' said Mr Pepperidge. He got to his feet and walked round to the front of the desk. As he spoke, he paced up and down before the jurors. 'House-elves are, and always have been, our willing servants. They're content with their living conditions; insulted by the mere suggestions of clothes, and certainly not asking for payment. The Ministry should not waste its limited resources on these proposals, especially when no-one is asking for them – least of all the house-elves.'

'Is that so?' said Madam Scamander. The tone of her voice suggested she was humouring him, and Mr Pepperidge could tell.

'In case there were any doubts about this,' he continued, 'we have brought a house-elf here today to provide a testimony. May we proceed?'

'By all means,' Madam Scamander replied.

Mr Pepperidge turned to the guard standing at the hearing room door. 'Bring in the house-elf, please.'

The door opened, and Harry, Ron, and Hermione gasped. Walking in, wearing a skirt, blouse, and matching blue hat was Winky. Her tennis ball-sized eyes were bloodshot, and she seemed to be struggling to walk in a straight line. Despite this, she did seem to be in a slightly better condition than she had once been. Mr Pepperidge placed a small, three-legged stool in the middle of the floor, and indicated for Winky to sit down.

'What is your name, please, Miss Elf?' asked Madam Scamander.

'Winky,' she replied.

'I see you're wearing clothes, Winky. May I ask who your old masters were?'

'Winky worked for the Crouches,' she squeaked, with a hiccough, 'like her mother before her, and her mother before that.'

'She was freed around five years ago, Madam Chairwoman,' said Mr Horton.

'And now?'

'Winky was taken in at Hogwarts,' she said. 'Winky's friend Dobby asked Professor Dumbledore to give Winky a job.'

'Winky,' said Hermione, kindly, 'can you tell us why you were freed?'

Winky's bottom lip trembled, and tears started to well up in her eyes. She jumped up from her stool, ran across the room, and started banging her head against the wall. Harry and Ron both leapt to their feet, and pulled her away.

'It's ok, Winky,' Harry said, 'you don't need to do that.'

'Thank you, Harry Potter, sir,' said Winky, timidly.

'Would it be ok if _we_ explain why you were freed?' asked Ron. 'Then you'd just have to confirm what we say.'

Winky thought for a moment, and then nodded slowly. Harry, Ron and Hermione started to explain Winky's story; how she'd been made to guard Barty Crouch Junior; how Crouch Senior had panicked after she'd been found under the Dark Mark, and how he'd freed her as punishment for not keeping his son under control; how she had been so traumatised by the experience that she had taken to drowning her sorrows in butterbeer.

'Is that correct, Winky?' asked Madam Scamander. Winky nodded again, and tried to make another run at the wall. This time though, Harry was ready, and pulled her away before she got there. 'Well, that sounds like Mr Crouch treated you very unfairly.'

'Madam Chairwoman?' said Mr Horton. 'May I ask the elf some questions?'

'If you must.'

Mr Horton got to his feet as well, and crouched down beside the elf, so that he could look her in the eye. 'Winky, why is it that you feel the need to drink so much?'

'Winky feels – _ashamed_, sir.'

'Ashamed, you say? Why would that be? Surely you shouldn't feel ashamed if you were treated badly by your former master.'

Winky hiccoughed again. 'Winky failed Mr Crouch. Winky failed to look after Master Barty.'

'No!' Hermione exclaimed.

Mr Horton returned himself to his full height. 'This house-elf admits she drinks, not because she was treated poorly, but because she failed her master. It's guilt, not torment.'

'Hey! That's not fair,' said Ron. 'You're twisting her words.'

'I'm just repeating what I heard, wouldn't you agree, Madam Chairwoman?'

Madam Scamander sighed. 'I'm afraid I would, Mr Horton.'

'But Winky shouldn't have been responsible for Barty Crouch Junior; he was supposed to be in Azkaban. Mr Crouch Senior gave her a job she couldn't possibly carry out.'

'Do you own a house-elf, Miss Granger?' asked Mr Pepperidge.

'Well, no, but...'

'Then how can your opinion be taken into account? You could be biased against families that _do_.'

'I own one,' said Harry, firmly.

'You do?' Mr Pepperidge replied, clearly unsettled by this news.

'Yes, I inherited him from my Godfather.'

'And would you pay him, if this law passed?' asked Horton.

'If he asked me to, certainly.'

'If he asked you to!' scoffed Mr Pepperidge. 'It's easy to say when you don't have to, isn't it?'

'I've already given him a locket,' said Harry. 'It was a Black family heirloom; it belonged to his old master, and I let him have it as a memento.'

Mr Horton and Mr Pepperidge looked stunned; Hermione was beaming at Harry.

'Tell me Mr Potter,' said Madam Scamander. 'Do you look after your elf? Is it healthy?'

'Yes, _he_ is.'

'Has he ever suffered any physical or verbal abuse?'

'Not from me,' said Harry. 'He did from former masters.'

'And you'd really be willing to pay him, if he asked to be?'

'Yes, but in the meantime, we've given him an elf-sized bed; we make sure he has food, and we don't ask him to do anything other than cook and clean.'

'Well, I think we've heard enough,' said Madam Scamander. 'Members of the Wizengamot, I think this is the time for you to make your decision.'

x x x

'I can't believe we _lost_,' said Hermione, sounding thoroughly deflated. She was sitting in the Ministry canteen, drinking tea with Harry, Ron, and Madam Scamander.

'Yeah, I thought we'd made a really strong case,' said Ron.

'Don't worry about it too much, Hermione,' said Madam Scamander. 'We can't change the world over night. Many of those jurors were from old wizarding families, and probably have house-elves of their own. What's important is that you stood up for what you believe in. And we can try again in a month or so; you've definitely convinced me it's worth pursuing. We'll get 'em next time.'

'Thank you, Rosalyn,' said Hermione.

'Besides, you've still had a brilliant first couple of days in my book. Passing two proposals in half a week is excellent.'

Hermione smiled, and sipped her tea.

Mr Pepperidge and Mr Horton entered the canteen, and helped themselves to tea. Mr Pepperidge looked over to the table where Harry and the others were sitting, and caught Hermione's eye.

'Better luck next time,' he sneered. The edges of Mr Horton's lips curled, and the two men picked up their tea cups and left. Hermione glared after them.

Later that evening, when they got home, Harry offered Kreacher the night off (which he refused, and instead started making them a chicken pie), and went into the drawing room. Ariana cooed on her stand.

'Hello,' said Harry, stroking the phoenix's stomach. 'How was your day?'

The phoenix flapped her way from her stand to the coffee table, and pecked at an envelope with Harry's name on it.

'Did you bring me this?' Harry asked. Ariana cooed again. Harry opened the envelope, and pulled out the letter inside.

_Harry,_

_I have arrived in London early, and will be staying at the Leaky Cauldron tonight._

_I apologise for changing my plans, but would be happy to meet with you this evening at seven o'clock._

_Regards,_

_Olympe Maxime_

Harry checked his watch, and realised that it was ten minutes to seven. He dashed out into the hallway, and grabbed his cloak.

'I'm going out,' he shouted.

Ginny appeared at the kitchen door. 'You've only just got back,' she said.

'I know, but Madame Maxime is in London _tonight_, and wants to meet me in ten minutes.'

'Oh, ok; we'll save your dinner.'

'Thanks.'

Harry dashed out the door, realised he'd forgotten his wand, and dashed back in.

'Where did I put my...?'

'Here,' said Ginny, holding it up.

'Thanks,' he said, planting a quick kiss on her nose. 'See you in a bit.'

Once outside, he Disapparated, reappearing outside the Leaky Cauldron.

'Ah, Mr Potter,' said Tom, from behind the bar. 'You must be here to see Madame Maxime.'

'That's right,' said Harry.

'Follow me, follow me.'

Tom led Harry out behind the bar to the private parlour he had once shared with Cornelius Fudge. Tom opened the door, and Harry's eye was immediately drawn to the very tall woman sitting beside the empty fireplace.

'Ah! 'Arry!' said Madame Maxime, 'I 'ave been waiting. I must offer my apologeez for changing my plans.'

'That's ok,' said Harry. 'Thank you, Tom.'

'Would you like a drink, Mr Potter?'

'Butterbeer would be fine, thank you.'

As Tom bowed his way out of the room, Harry sat down in the empty chair across from Madame Maxime.

'So, I believe I know why you are 'ere,' she said.

'I want to know what you can tell me about The Legion of the Lost Ones,' said Harry. 'What do you know about her?'

'I do not know much, but what leetle I know, I will tell you.'

The parlour door reopened, and Tom came in with a large glass of butterbeer, placed it on the table beside Harry, and bowed his way back out again.

'Start at the beginning,' said Harry. 'Who is she?'

'Ah,' said Madame Maxime. She looked saddened by the question. 'I fear zat eez a terrible thing to answer. Her name was once Pascalle Chevalier; she was once a student at ze academy – many, many years ago.'

'Wait – _Chevalier_ – I've heard that name before.'

'You 'ave probably 'eard of 'er niece, Colette.'

'You mean the girl who died last summer? She was Legion's niece?'

'I fear eet eez worse zan zat,' Madame Maxime continued. 'We believe eet was Legion who killed 'er.'

Harry's mouth fell open in shock; his stomach had just turned. He put his butterbeer back down on the table without taking a sip.

'Why would she do that?'

'My teachers and I 'ave come up with a theory, though we cannot be sure; we believe ze spell zat allows 'er to consume others can only be activated by ze murder of a blood descendant.'

'Is that some kind of ancient, dark magic?' Harry asked. He was trying not to think about it too much, as the very idea was disturbing.

'Actually, we think zat Legion may 'ave invented ze spell 'erself.'

'Yeah,' said Harry, thinking carefully. 'That's what she told me. She said she'd done what the Dark Lord hadn't; _created _renewable immortality – that's why no-one's seen this kind of magic before.' Harry was starting to get excited now; finally they were starting to solve the mystery, but then a thought occurred to him which burst his bubble. 'How do you defend against a brand new spell?'

'Zat, 'Arry, eez exactly ze problem.'


	13. Chapter 13: Holyhead Versus Puddlemere

**Chapter 13 – Holyhead Versus Puddlemere**

It was late in the evening at Grimmauld Place; a pure-white stag cantered into the kitchen, making Ron drop his toast.

'I'm home,' it said in Harry's voice. A moment later, it was followed through the door by Harry himself.

'Do you have to keep doing that?' asked Ron, trying to salvage his toast from the floor (typically it had landed jam-side down). 'I know you're pleased that you've learnt to do it, but it keeps making me jump.'

The stag's light faded, and Harry grinned. 'I know,' he said. 'Why else would I do it?'

'How's the Professor?' asked Hermione.

'Wasn't her tonight,' Harry replied. 'She was busy, so I was with Flitwick again.'

Ever since the graduation ceremony, Harry has been meeting with Professor McGonagall once a fortnight for lessons on Patronal-communication. After four sessions with her (and another two with Professor Flitwick), Harry had become adept at using his Patronus to send messages.

'Where's Ginny?' Harry asked.

'Already in bed,' said Hermione, 'she wanted to get an early night before the match tomorrow.'

Tomorrow was to be Ginny's first game for the Harpies, having finally been chosen for the match squad. This had come after the team had been forced to sell their star chaser, Wilda Griffiths, to fierce-rivals, Puddlemere United. To make matters worse, the upcoming game was against Puddlemere, with many die-hard Holyhead fans promising retribution for Griffiths's betrayal.

'I can't believe I agreed to go,' said Ron. 'Not when the Cannons are on a winning streak.'

'Yeah,' said Harry, sarcastically, 'a streak of _two_...'

'Shut up,' Ron snapped.

'Of course we're going,' said Hermione. 'We can't miss her first game.'

'Besides,' said Harry, 'if there's going to be trouble over the transfer thing, best to have a couple of Aurors there.'

'I guess,' said Ron, begrudgingly. 'Anyway; chess before bed?'

Once Ron had comprehensively destroyed Harry's chess pieces (Hermione had claimed that she would watch, but started reading a book after the first eight moves), they said goodnight, and headed up to their bedrooms.

Harry crept into his, and tried to undress both quietly _and_ in the dark, so as not to wake Ginny. He removed his shoes, socks and shirt without issue, but as he removed his trousers, several silver sickles fell from the pockets, and went rolling across the floor.

'Damn,' Harry muttered. He tried to end their bid for freedom by treading a few into the carpet – but it was too late.

'Lumos,' said Ginny, her wand-tip illuminating her face in the darkness. 'Is that you, Harry?'

'Yeah; sorry Gin – I was trying not to wake you.'

'That's ok, I don't mind,' she said, with a yawn. 'The bed's gone cold anyway; come and warm me up.'

Harry grinned, put his glasses on the nightstand, got into bed, and cuddled up beside her.

x x x

At quarter to eleven the next morning, Harry, Ron and Hermione had joined the crowd of people making their way into the Holyhead Quidditch stadium. Ginny had left early to meet with the team, so the trio had made their way over separately. When they reached the entrance to the stadium, Harry saw there were security wizards in vivid orange robes standing guard at the gates.

'Morning,' a cheery security wizard said to Harry. 'I'll have to ask you to turn in your wands for the duration of the match please. We don't want any trouble today.'

'We're with the Ministry,' said Harry. He removed his Auror-badge from his pocket, and showed the wizard. Ron did the same. 'If things get – er – _heated_, we're here to assist.'

'Ah, very well,' said the security wizard. 'Just try and keep it out of sight, will you? If anyone finds out that you've still got yours, there'll be uproar.'

'No problem,' said Ron. They turned to go in, but the wizard stopped Hermione.

'Your wand, please, Miss.'

'Oh, I'm with the Ministry too,' said Hermione.

'Can I see your badge?'

'I don't have one – I'm not with the Aurors, but the boys can vouch for me.'

'I'm sorry, but I won't be able to let you take your wand in; more than my job's worth.'

'She's ok,' said Ron, 'really – she's no trouble.'

'Sorry sir, but rules are rules.'

Begrudgingly, Hermione handed in her wand, and received a numbered token in return. She was still sulking when they arrived at their seats. Ginny, as a team member, had managed to secure them excellent ones in the families-of-players box.

The stadium itself was quite impressive. Not as big as the Quidditch World Cup final's one had been, but certainly bigger than the one at Hogwarts. The seats and stands were all decorated in Harpies-dark green, as were many of the home fans – either wearing replica team-robes or waving scarves with gold trim. On the far side of the stadium were the away fans, bedecked in robes of Puddlemere-navy blue. They were taking the opportunity to taunt the Holyhead fans with songs about their ex-chaser, Wilda Griffiths.

_You used to have a chaser_

_and Griffiths was her name;_

_she used to get the quaffle_

_and score in every game._

_But Wilda got tired of you;_

_she had a greater aim -_

_and so she plays for us now_

_because your team is lame!_

'Blimey,' said Ron, 'they're really looking for a fight, aren't they?'

'No kidding,' said Harry. 'Let's just hope one of the seekers gets the snitch early.'

'GOOD MORNING, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!' boomed the magically magnified voice of the commentator. 'It's the match of the season today; the Holyhead Harpies take on Puddlemere United. If United win today, they'll go top of the league – but that's not what the fans are talking about. Oh no, they're talking about new Puddlemere chaser Wilda Griffiths; recently poached from Holyhead for a staggering one thousand galleons – I hope she's worth it. The crowd seem ready and fired up...' The United fans had stopped singing their song now, and the Harpies fans were responding in kind.

_We've got Jones!_

_Gwenog Jones!_

_She will break your, break your bones!_

_With a swing of her bat_

_there's a bludger in your face;_

_She's our flying beater ace!_

'...And here come the teams!' the commentator continued. The home fans roared as seven witches made their way on to the pitch. Ginny's flame-red hair gave her away at a distance.

'The Holyhead Harpies are Glamorgan, Rees, Jones, Garcia, Morgan, Weasley, aaaand Davies!'

Harry, Ron and Hermione cheered loudly for Ginny as her name was called out.

'And for Puddlemere United, it's Wood, Withey, Quigley, Dimitrov, Griffiths, Hawksworth, aaaand Williams!'

The home fans booed loudly as Wilda Griffiths's name was called out, but Harry and Ron were distracted by another.

'It's Oliver!' said Harry, pulling out his Omnioculars from his pocket, and zooming in on the Puddlemere keeper.

'Good for him,' said Hermione, 'it's about time he made the senior squad.'

'I'm surprised he didn't hand in a transfer request,' said Ron. 'I didn't think their last Keeper was ever going to retire.'

'Yeah,' said Harry. ''If it hadn't been for that firecrab...'

'And here comes the referee, Mr Hobday,' said the commentator's voice, 'it's a brave man that offers to ref this game – and he's released the Bludgers; oh, and there goes the Snitch.

'The captains shake hands – ooh, something of a vice-grip from the Harpies' Gwenog Jones there – the teams mount the brooms, and...'

Down on the pitch, the referee blew his whistle, and all fourteen players flew up into the air. The crowd roared, as Ginny managed to grab the Quaffle.

'They're off!' cried the commentator, over the din. 'Weasley takes the Quaffle for Holyhead; passes to Valmai Morgan; she dodges a Bludger from Tommy Quigley, and passes back to Weasley; nice one-two there; Weasley shoots! Scores! Ginny Weasley scores on her senior debut! Ten-nil to Holyhead.'

In the stands, Harry, Ron and Hermione were shouting themselves hoarse as they cheered Ginny on.

'Wood throws the Quaffle out to Avery Hawksworth for Puddlemere now; whoa! Nice Bludger work from Jones there – she's knocked the Quaffle right out of his hands; caught by Carmen Garcia for Holyhead; Garcia shoots! A spectacular save by Wood! No way through.

'Garcia of course joined the Harpies last year from Albacete Ashwinders after her successful campaign with the Spanish international team, and she's rapidly becoming a fan-favourite here.

'Though speaking of fan-favourites, here she is – Griffiths has the Quaffle for United, and just listen to the home fans.'

The Holyhead fans' boos were echoing around the stadium, but Griffiths didn't seem distracted; she streaked up the pitch, under Ginny's broom, around Valmai Morgan's, ducked a Bludger from Gwen Rees, and torpedoed the Quaffle through the left hand hoop.

'Griffiths scores!' cried the commentator. 'My, oh my, she looked like she meant that; she _fired_ it past Harpies keeper, Rebecca Glamorgan.'

The Holyhead fans were beside themselves; people all around Harry, Ron and Hermione were hurling every swear word they could think of in Griffiths's direction.

'This is getting ugly,' said Hermione.

'Swap seats with me,' Ron replied, standing up. 'Sit between me and Harry.'

'Why?'

'Because you've not got your wand, and I don't want anything to happen to you.'

'Awww,' she said, with a smile. She got to her feet, planted a kiss on his cheek, and sat back down in his vacant seat.

'Dimitrov takes the Quaffle for Puddlemere,' said the commentator. 'He's past one; past two; shoots! Scores – he's still got the magic.

'He was captain of the Bulgarian national side until his retirement from international Quidditch last summer, and just this week, Vasily Dimitrov has announced his intention to make a full retirement from the game at the end of this season; he will be missed by the United fans – great player for the club; great player.

'So, twenty-ten to Puddlemere, and Weasley has the Quaffle for Holyhead; now Morgan; onto Garcia; ouch! Struck with a Bludger from Dawn Withey for United – but Weasley claims the Quaffle; guarded from the other Bludger by Gwen Rees; Weasley shoots! Scores again, but oh! Look at the seekers!'

Puddlemere's seeker, Benjy Williams, had gone into a dive, and the Harpies' Glenys Davies was racing after him. With twenty feet to go they were neck and neck, but then several things happened at once:

Gwenog Jones smacked a Bludger into Williams, knocking him off his broom. This meant that Davies, now unchallenged, clasped her fingers around the Snitch, and held it aloft, victorious. 'She's got it,' the commentator cried,' Holyhead win, and – _Merlin__'__s __beard!_'

For at the exact same moment, the stadium was filled with a flash of blue light. For a second, nobody knew what had happened. Some people – thinking they'd imagined it – were rubbing their eyes in confusion; but they were quickly given an explanation, as a riderless broom crashed into the Away stand. It was Griffiths's, and she had vanished.

There was a moment of absolute silence in the stadium. Quiet enough that Harry could actually hear the sound of the two Bludgers still whizzing through the air.

It was broken by the shout of a Puddlemere fan. 'Them Harpies've vanished our chaser!' he cried. 'Get 'em!'

There was a roar from both halves of the crowd, as duels broke out across the stadium. Despite having supposedly turned in their wands, it seemed many fans actually hadn't. People were Apparating down to the pitch to get a better duelling position, and many of the players had drawn their own wands and started fighting each other.

'Take my hand,' said Harry, holding his right one out to Ron and Hermione. They did as they were told, and with a pop, Harry Disapparated them all down to the pitch.

Curses were flying back and forth as the riot started to heat up. Harry and Ron withdrew their wands, and started firing stunning spells into the hostilities.

''Mione, stay behind me,' said Ron. With a flick of his wand, he sent a large, shirtless United fan, crashing to the floor.

'I want to help,' Hermione replied.

'You've not got a wand!'

'Take my spare,' said Harry, pulling the Hawthorn wand out from his belt. Hermione stared at it.

'You're only mentioning that you brought that, _now_?'

'Do you want it, or not?'

'Yes,' she said, taking the handle. She pointed it at three, nearby men, who'd forgotten about magic and were just brawling on the floor. 'Stupefy! Stupefy! Stupefy!'

A Holyhead fan had turned towards Harry, and had started to duel with him. However, he didn't seem to have any great talent for it, as Harry batted away his attacks with minimal wand-flicks. Stepping backwards, Harry felt himself bump into someone, and spun around, wand raised. However, he was relieved to see a familiar face.

'Hey honey, how's your day been?' asked Ginny.

'Oh, you know,' he replied, turning so they could stand back-to-back, 'same old, same old. Just the odd riot and a mass duel; y'know - the usual.' He fired a stunning spell at the unskilled-wizard who was still trying to hex him. It threw the man backwards, knocking him out cold as he skidded across the dirt-pitch.

'That's weird,' said Ginny, 'there was a riot after my match today too; what are the chances of that?'

Harry swung his wand arm around Ginny, and fired a string of hexes over her shoulder at a band of charging Puddlemere fans. 'I guess trouble just follows us wherever we go.'

'Ahh, yeah,' she said, shooting stunning spells at a pair of witches duelling nearby. 'But what can you do, eh?'

They turned back to each other, and Harry pulled her into a kiss. A couple of jinxes were fired towards them, but they just bounced off the aura from Harry's shield-belt. 'At least you won,' said Harry, when they broke apart. 'C'mon, let's find Ron and Hermione.'

They worked their way back through the crowd, blasting jinxes towards the smaller groups of rioters. Eventually, they found the other two, standing back to back – her fighting a Puddlemere fan; him fighting a Harpies fan.

'Give it up, will you?' he shouted, angrily. 'My sister plays for your team, and _I__'__m_ a _Cannons_ fan.'

Harry and Ginny each shot a stunning spell at Ron and Hermione's combatants, knocking them down.

'Thanks,' said Hermione.

'No problem,' said Ginny. 'This is really getting out of hand.'

'Where are the security wizards?' asked Ron.

'Never mind them,' Ginny replied. 'What happened to Wilda?'

'I've got a theory,' said Harry, 'but I've got no proof. Y'know what? I'm ending this – right now. _Incendio __Horribilis!_'

A tirade of flame burst from his wand as the Firestorm spell began to swirl around them. Harry waved his wand over his head, guiding the wave of flame to spiral outwards. Rioters across the pitch started to panic as the fire spread towards them. Abandoning their duels, they turned, and ran.

'Use your Patronuses to herd them apart,' said Harry. The others nodded, and soon a silver terrier, a horse and an otter were charging the rioters down, dividing them between their team allegiances.

With a slash of his wand, Harry let the Firestorm burn itself out – the flames evaporating in the air. He looked across the charred dust of the pitch, and saw a woman standing by the players' entrance tunnel. She was wearing dark robes, and had straight, blonde hair. For a brief moment, they held each other's gaze. Harry knew who she was.

'LEGION!' he bellowed, breaking into a run. She smirked at him, turned on her heel, and sprinted off down the players' tunnel.

'Harry!' Ginny's voice called from behind him. He spun around, to see her darting towards him, mounted on her broom. She stopped beside him, and he jumped on the back. Ginny leant forward on the handle, and sped across the pitch and down the tunnel. Something fell out of Ginny's pocket, and Harry looked back to see what it was.

'Your wand!' he shouted, 'You dropped your wand.'

'No time,' she shouted back. 'There! Look.' She pulled the broom up and they swerved to a halt. Harry jumped off – his wand pointed at Legion's back.

'Freeze!'

'Why, Mr Potter,' said Legion. 'I thought I might run into you.' She turned around to face him, a wicked grin on her face. They were standing several yards apart, but Harry was confident she had nowhere to run. 'And Miss Weasley too; lovely flying my dear, I nearly chose you instead.'

'Touch her, and I will end you,' Harry snarled.

'Ohhhhh, so she must be the girlfriend,' said Legion, gleefully. 'How exquisite.'

'Why did you come here today, Pascalle?' Harry asked.

'Oh, so you know who I am, do you?' she said. 'While I'm flattered by the interest, Harry, you really should call me Legion.'

'No, I really don't think I will,' said Harry. 'Tell me, why are you here? Why consume Griffiths?'

'So many questions!' She turned to Ginny. 'Is he always so curious?'

'Tell me.'

Legion sighed, melodramatically. 'I was promised there'd be chaos,' she said. 'It seemed like a good opportunity to acquire a new skill.'

'What do you mean, "a new skill"?'

'Oh come on, Harry, you're a clever man - work it out.'

'It'll make no difference whether I do or not,' he replied, 'either way, you'll be in Azkaban tonight.'

Legion smiled. 'You're not going to take me in, Potter,' she sneered, 'not today at least.'

'What makes you say that?'

'Because, _you've_ got to save your girlfriend...'

With astonishing speed, Legion sliced the air with her wand, slinging a curse at Ginny. Harry dived in front of her, wand out to meet it. He heard a faint pop, as he shouted, 'protego.'

The incantation rebounded and was absorbed by the tunnel wall, but Legion had seized her moment, and Disapparated on the spot.

'Damn it,' said Harry, smacking the floor with his fist. 'You ok?'

'Yeah, fine,' Ginny replied. 'She's _mental_.'

'No kidding.'

'I mean she's _Bellatrix_ mental.'

'I know, I'm agreeing with you. Come on; let's go help Ron and Hermione.'

Ginny heaved Harry back to his feet, they remounted her broom, and sped back down the tunnel (briefly stopping to retrieve Ginny's wand). When they reached the pitch, Ron and Hermione were standing in the middle; the rioters were standing around the edge in several groups, none of them moving.

'What's with them?' asked Harry.

'Containment charm,' said Hermione. 'If they try to leave their group, or use any magic, they'll feel a burning sensation.'

'Bit harsh, isn't it?'

'How else did you expect me to detain a hundred and seventy-odd people?'

'Fair point.'

'What happened with Legion?' asked Ron.

'She got away,' Harry sighed. 'Said she'd come to acquire a new skill.'

'What? As in something Wilda Griffiths can do, you mean?'

'Ohhhh,' said Ginny. 'That must be what she meant; she wanted Wilda's flying skills – that's why she nearly chose me instead.'

Harry beamed at Ginny with admiration in his eyes. He pulled her into a hug.

'Brilliant!' he exclaimed, letting her go. 'That's what she's doing! She's gathering up different skill sets and information that she thinks she needs. Flying skills from today, I bet she was trying to pick up dark magic from Yaxley before he escaped, and she was probably after an Unspeakable or someone like that when she attacked the Ministry.'

'Where will she go next then?' asked Ron.

'No idea,' said Harry. 'Guess we'll have to wait and see.'

'Mr Potter?' said a voice. Harry looked over his shoulder to see who it was, and saw a team of security wizards striding towards them.

'Is there a problem officer?' asked Harry.

'No, no, we just wanted to – oh, here's your wand Miss Granger, sorry for the inconvenience – we were just wondering if you could explain what happened here, sir.'

'At a guess,' said Harry, 'I'd say a _slight_ lapse in your security.'

x x x

_PUDDLEMERE CHASER VANISHES AMID CHAOS AT HOLYHEAD MATCH_

_Ministry fears of violence at the match between traditional rivals Holyhead Harpies and Puddlemere United were realised when former Harpy, Chaser Wilda Griffiths, disappeared at the end of the match. Many Puddlemere and Holyhead supporters had handed in "dummy" wands at the gates and used their real wands during the ensuing riot. Holyhead team captain Gwenog Jones is said to be "helping the Ministry with its enquiries"._

'I still don't understand why you arrested Gwenog,' said Ginny, throwing the paper down on the coffee table.

'Because she _jinxed_ half the Puddlemere players,' said Ron, exasperatedly. 'What choice did we have? There's a twenty-three year old Puddlemere fan in St Mungo's with a rat's tail, thanks to her.'

Ginny shrugged. 'I'm sure it was just self-defence.'

Ron rolled his eyes, and turned to Harry. 'You're quiet,' he said. 'What are you up to?'

'Making a list.'

'What of?'

'Things Legion might go for.'

'What have you got so far?'

'Money, the Elder Wand, perhaps some allies, giant's skin...'

'Giant's skin?'

'Yeah, think about it. If she consumed a giant, her skin would be resistant to magic.'

'Don't be daft,' said Ron. 'If she was doing that, why wouldn't she go for a dragon?'

Harry pointed to the list. 'I've already put "fire-breathing" down.'

There was a knock at the front door. From the other room, Hermione shouted, 'I'll get it.'

They heard the door swing open, followed by a familiar voice. 'Where is she?' it asked, sounding quite hysterical.

'In the drawing room,' Hermione replied.

Seconds later, Mrs Weasley burst through the door.

'Ginny! Are you alright?' she asked, pulling her daughter into a tight hug.

'I'm fine, Mum,' said Ginny, 'don't fuss. It wasn't that big a deal.'

'Your father said that Legion was there.'

'Well – yeah, ok – she was. But she left pretty quickly.'

'You didn't try and fight her, did you?'

'I couldn't,' said Ginny, 'I dropped my wand. I _was_ with Harry, though.'

'I'm fine by the way,' said Ron, irritably, his arms folded.

'Oh, yes, sorry dear,' said Mrs Weasley, turning to her son. 'I'll get to you, but you do this sort of thing everyday – I assumed you were fine.'

'He didn't even get cursed this time,' said Harry, brightly.

'Oi,' said Ron.

'Oh well, that's something,' said Mrs Weasley, sounding reassured.

'_Oi!_' Ron repeated.

'There there, dear,' said Mrs Weasley, patting Ron on the cheek, before turning back to Ginny. 'You're sure you weren't hurt?'

'I'm sure, Mum. And yes, we did win the match – thanks for asking.'

Mrs Weasley sighed. 'Yes, well done sweetheart. It's just difficult not to worry about you since you moved out.'

'I can handle myself in a fight, Mum,' said Ginny, reassuringly.

'She got that from you, Molly,' said Harry, smiling.

A little grin crept over Mrs Weasley's face, but she quickly dismissed it. 'Yes,' she said, 'but you don't have to go looking for them. Promise me you'll be careful in future.'

Ginny sighed. 'I promise, Mum.'

'Thank you,' said Mrs Weasley. She took a deep breath, and turned to Harry. 'It wouldn't be like this if the Order were still active.'

'Well, it's funny you should say that,' said Harry, 'because I'm starting to think it's time for it to rise from the ashes...'

On her perch across the room, Ariana let out a coo.


	14. Chapter 14: Werewolves of London

**Chapter 14 – Werewolves of London**

'What time are they coming over tomorrow?' asked Ron.

'I told everyone to be here for eight o'clock,' Harry replied.

'Did you hear back from everyone?' asked Ginny.

'I was only waiting on Mr Doge,' said Hermione, 'and his reply came this morning.'

'Is he coming?'

'Yes,' said Harry. 'He seemed highly enthusiastic – I don't think retirement suits him.'

It was early November, and, after weeks of correspondence, Harry and Hermione had finally managed to arrange a meeting at Grimmauld Place for the new Order of the Phoenix. They'd invited everyone that they thought would be useful; surviving members of the Order's first and second incarnations, members of Dumbledore's Army, a handful of Aurors, and a few others.

'What about The Dark Force Defence League?' Ron had asked when they were drawing up the invitation list.

'No,' Harry had replied, bluntly. 'Not if I can help it; they'd probably think they ought to be leading us. Give them an inch, and they'll take a mile, believe me.'

There was a knock at the front door. Harry got up, left the drawing room where they were sitting, and went to answer it. When he opened the door, he was greeted by a familiar face.

'Hello!' said Harry, as he opened the door and saw who it was. 'What brings you here? You know the meeting isn't until tomorrow, right?'

It was Lavender Brown. 'Hi Harry,' she said. 'Yeah, I do. I need some help though. Can I come in?'

'Of course,' he replied. 'Come through to the kitchen.'

He led her along the hallway and down the steps to the kitchen, before returning to the drawing room, and sticking his head through the door.

'Who is it?' asked Ginny.

'Lavender. Needs my help with something.'

'If she asks, I'm not here,' said Ron. He took a nervous glance at Hermione, who rolled her eyes.

'Oh, _do_ grow up, Ronald,' she said, getting to her feet. 'Come on, Harry. Let's see what she needs.'

They went to the kitchen, where Kreacher was serving Lavender with tea. Harry and Hermione joined her at the table, and each accepted a cup of their own.

'So,' said Harry, 'what can we do for you?'

Lavender looked thin. She was so wet that she looked like she'd been swimming with the Giant Squid. There were white scars on her neck, from where she had been attacked by Fenrir Greyback, and although they had long-since healed, they were far from faded.

'Do you want something to eat?' asked Hermione, looking concerned. Clearly, she too had noticed Lavender's weight-loss. 'I'm sure there's some stew left from dinner.'

'Yes!' said Lavender, longingly. 'Or perhaps, if you had some meat?'

Hermione gave her a bowl of stew, while Harry flash-fried a piece of steak from the fridge. Lavender wolfed them both down, thankful for the nourishment.

'Lavender, what happened to you?' asked Hermione.

'Nothing awful,' she replied, skewering the last piece of meat with her fork. 'I've just not been home much lately. I've been helping a pack of werewolves.'

'You've been doing what?' asked Harry, concerned.

'Ever since I got these,' she said, pointing to the scars on her neck, 'it's like I've had a connection with them. I know where to find them, and I've been trying to look after them.'

'But you're not...'

'No. Greyback wasn't in his wolf state when he bit me.'

'Like Bill,' Hermione muttered.

'But I still try and help as many as I can. Bring them food, water; as much Wolfsbane Potion as I can get my hands on. A few of them don't want it, of course.'

Hermione gasped. 'They just flatly refuse it?'

'Yeah,' Lavender sighed. 'Those ones usually try to bite me on a full moon, but most of them aren't like that.'

'Where are they?'

'In London?'

'Yeah.'

'All over; mostly underground – y'know – in sewers; in the service tunnels for those muggle trains; anywhere hidden.'

'Why?' asked Harry.

'Oh Harry, why do you think?' asked Lavender. 'They've been shunned by the wizarding community. Just because _you_ see the good in everyone, doesn't mean everybody else does. Werewolves are still feared and hated.'

'What do you want from me then?' asked Harry.

'From both of you,' Lavender corrected him. 'I want you to change it.'

'Just like that?'

'It's not so difficult, is it? People listen to you, Harry; they trust what you say. Hermione – if you were to create a new Ministry initiative to aid sufferers of Lycanthropy, and Harry publically supported it, do you think it would pass a vote?'

'I think it would pass,' said Hermione, cautiously, 'but what it won't do is change public perception – at least not overnight.'

'Also,' said Harry, 'we can't force anything on anyone. From what you've told us, some werewolves don't want help.'

'But some do!' Lavender insisted. 'The majority do. The majority would like nothing more than to go back to their families, to have normal jobs, and to just sleep in their own beds. They just need help.'

Harry and Hermione looked at each other, silently communicating.

'Show us,' said Harry.

'What?' said Lavender.

'Take us to them,' said Hermione. 'Let us talk to them.'

'When?'

'It's not a full moon,' said Harry. 'Let's go now.'

Lavender beamed at them both. 'You'll need your cloaks.'

Minutes later, Harry and Hermione found themselves in a sewage pipe beneath Picadilly Circus.

'I wish I hadn't worn these shoes,' said Hermione. 'I love these shoes, and now look at them.'

'You know Hermione,' said Harry, shining his wand-light ahead of them. 'Some days you are _such_ a girl.'

Aside from the occasional, unpleasant squelch, they walked on in silence, until Lavender stopped at an old rusted-iron door. 'We're here,' she said, tapping the lock with her wand. It clicked, and she heaved the door open.

'Who is it?' a grouchy voice snapped. 'Who's there?'

'It's me; Lavender,' she said.

An elderly man, at least ninety, stepped into Harry's wand light. He had a mane of grizzled hair, not dissimilar to Mad-eye Moody's; his face was scratched and scarred, and he was missing his left earlobe. He spoke with a gruff, cockney accent.

'I know who _you_ are,' he growled. 'Who are these ones?'

Lavender seemed shaken by the frostiness of their reception, but she continued. 'Marius Grimsdyke, this is Harry Potter, and this is Hermione Granger.'

Grimsdyke squinted through the darkness, his eyes darting up to Harry's forehead. Harry's stomach turned; it had been a long time since anyone had identified him by his scar. Sub-consciously, he rubbed it with his fingers, trying to conceal it from view.

'Well, well, well,' said Grimsdyke, his voice loaded with sarcasm. 'Whodda thought it? The great 'Arry Potter! Down 'ere, in my 'umble sewer. What can we simple folk do for you?' Grimsdyke had moved forward so as their noses were only inches apart now. He carried a horrible stink, as though the years of living in sewers had been soaked up by his skin. Harry was beginning to hope that the other werewolves would be friendlier than this one.

'Leave him alone, Marius,' said Lavender, barging passed. Harry and Hermione followed after her, and gasped at the sight that greeted them.

It was a large room, dimly lit with little balls of light that were bobbing across the ceiling, though the most obvious thing was the stench – compared to this, Grimsdyke smelled of vanilla pods. There were a few battered-looking tables on the left-side of the room; two wizards were sat playing Chess at one, but the others were vacant. The rest of the floor was covered with bedding, with around a dozen witches and wizards sitting on their blankets, some reading, others chatting amongst themselves. Many of them looked thin and malnourished. However, all of this stopped when Harry and Hermione entered, as everyone turned to look at them.

'New blood, Lavender?' asked an elderly witch, sitting near the door. She was very thin, making her eyes look almost too big for her head. Despite her frailties, she smiled warmly at Harry and Hermione. 'When did you get the bite, my dears?'

'They're not lycanthropes, Doreen,' Lavender replied. 'They're humans.'

This sentence was met with uproar.

'Humans!'

'How dare you bring the uninfected here?'

'This is our sanctuary.'

'They're here to kill us!'

'No-one's here to kill you,' said Lavender, calmly. 'They're here to meet with you – to help.'

The witch called Doreen, got to her feet, and held out her hand to Hermione.

'Don't worry about them, my dears,' she said. 'Hysterical reactionaries; every one of them. Lovely to meet you, I'm Doreen Whifferdill.'

'Hermione Granger,' said Hermione, shaking hands.

'Harry Potter,' said Harry. There was some mumbling from the other werewolves, and a few tried to get a better look at him.

'Oh really?' said Doreen. 'My great-nephew used to talk about you. He's probably your age, actually. Do you know Ernie Macmillan?'

'Yes!' said Hermione, brightly. 'He was in our year at school. He was in my Muggle Studies class.'

'Oh how lovely! I've not seen him for many years now, of course. Is he well?'

'Last time we saw him, yes,' said Harry.

'Lovely, lovely,' said Doreen. 'Come in, come in. Close that door, Marius – there's a good chap.' They sat down at one of the vacant tables, and the others went back to their own activities. 'Now, what would you like to know?'

It was difficult to know where to start. Harry had so many questions; obviously he'd met werewolves before, and he knew Lupin had stayed with them, but he had never imagined this. Fortunately, Hermione spoke first.

'How long have you all been down here?' she asked.

'Various lengths of time,' she replied. 'I myself arrived about nine years ago, but Marius has been here for almost forty.'

'Oh my. May ask, if you don't mind, why did you choose to come down here? The Wolfsbane Potion was in existence nine years ago? Why not stay on the surface and take that?'

Doreen smiled, but her eyes were sad. 'Oh my dear, if only it were that simple. I'd tried to live on the surface for many years, but eventually, my wolf-state got too aggressive and I had no choice. I fear I'm responsible for young Leona over there.' She pointed to a witch who was sat watching them; she looked to be in her late twenties. 'It was the night after I bit her that I knew I had to leave my home.'

'But the Wolfsbane Potion...'

'...Is a very _complicated_ potion,' said Harry. 'Even Lupin admitted he found it difficult to brew.'

'Oh you knew Remus, did you?' asked Doreen, brightly. 'He stayed with us for several months. Terrible shame about what happened to him – we were all devastated when Lavender told us.'

'He was our teacher,' said Hermione.

'And I'm Godfather to his son,' said Harry.

'How lovely,' said Doreen. 'Yes, you're quite right, Harry. I confess myself to be a most disastrous potioneer – no talent for it at all. The Wolfsbane Potion is considerably outside of my capability.'

'Surely you can purchase it ready made?' asked Harry.

'Yes and no. It is available in Diagon Alley, but it's unfeasibly expensive. Twenty galleons a dose – that's sixty galleons every month. No-one could afford that; especially when most lycanthropy sufferers lose their jobs after their employers find out.'

'That's terrible,' said Hermione. 'How can they justify that?'

'Cos we ain't trusted, are we?' growled Grimsdyke. 'They prefer to keep us 'idden from view.'

'As far as the wizarding community is concerned,' said Lavender, 'there's no incentive to help werewolves. They're just considered a threat.'

'And admittedly, some of us are,' sighed Doreen.

'Just look at Greyback,' said Lavender, nodding.

'Ah yes. Terrible man, Fenrir; terrible. I knew him before the bite; he used to come across as a nice enough chap, believe it or not. He was perhaps a little off though – used to collect Doxies in his youth and trap them in bottles – and he came from a _very_ pro-pure blood family. Can't think of a better place for him than Azkaban.'

'Yeah, well not all of 'is ideas were terrible,' muttered Grimsdyke. 'Maybe we _should_ fight for our freedom.'

'Don't say things like that Marius,' snapped Doreen. 'You know as well as I do that Fenrir is a savage killer; we're better than him.'

'Besides,' said Harry. 'I don't think you need to fight. We're going to help.'

'What can you do?' Grimsdyke sneered.

'We work at the Ministry,' said Hermione. 'We can help! I promise.'

'No offence, love, but I'll believe that when I see it.'

Half an hour later, after taking Lavender to the Leaky Cauldron and paying for her room, they were home again.

'What's that smell?' asked Ron.

'You don't want to know,' Harry replied.

'How was it?' asked Ginny.

'Horrible,' said Hermione. 'If you'll excuse me, I've got books to read. I want to introduce some new pro-werewolf policies tomorrow, and something tells me that the Traditional Wizarding Values Alliance will pay me a visit before the end of the day.'

x x x

'You ready for lunch?' said Hermione, swinging around the office door frame.

'Yeah,' Harry replied. 'How's it going?'

'Kingsley approved my policy for putting a price cap on Wolfsbane Potion,' she replied. 'I've got it down to three galleons a dose, but we're going to try for more, and I'm just starting work on plans for The L.P.C.'

'L.P.C.?' asked Ron. 'What's that?'

'Lycanthropy Protection Centre,' said Harry.

'It's going to be a place for werewolves to go on full moons,' said Hermione, 'somewhere they can be safe from rogue hunters, but also prevented from biting anyone.'

'Sounds good,' said Ron.

'Yeah, but guess who's made an appointment with Rosalyn for this afternoon.'

'You're joking,' said Harry. 'How did they hear about this so quickly?'

'No idea,' she replied, 'but Horton and Pepperidge are due here in two hours.'

They went down to the Ministry canteen for lunch, and found Kingsley eating alone.

'Hello you three,' he said brightly. 'Good morning?'

'Until twenty minutes ago,' said Hermione, sourly.

'What's wrong? I thought your price cap idea was excellent.'

'The T.W.V.A. are coming,' said Ron. There was a certain foreboding in his voice.

Kingsley rolled his eyes, and consulted a pocket watch from within his robes. 'What time are they getting here?' he asked.

'They're meeting Rosalyn at two o'clock,' said Hermione.

'Right, I'll sit in on the meeting. I've had quite enough of their nonsense for one week.'

Three days earlier, Edgar Pepperidge had submitted a petition demanding that the T.W.V.A. be allowed to tour the Department of Mysteries. Kingsley and Mr Weasley had been forced to spend several hours explaining why that wasn't going to happen.

'Are you sure, Minister?' asked Hermione. 'You must have a very busy afternoon.'

'Absolutely positive,' said Kingsley. 'If the Alliance can't see the benefit of your new policies, then they're bigger fools than I thought, and it'll give me great pleasure to tell them so.'

Harry and Ron smirked. Hermione beamed, and made a sudden jolt, as though she'd considered hugging Kingsley, but thought better of it.

'Are you ok?' asked Kingsley, eyeing her with concern.

'Hmmm, oh, yes, fine,' she said, 'I just – er – need some lunch. I'll see you later, Minister.'

Harry and Ron struggled to contain their laughter as she hurried off to help herself to beef casserole.

At two o'clock, Harry and Ron went down to Level Four, and lingered outside Hermione's department. At ten minutes past two, the door burst open, and Messrs Horton and Pepperidge stormed out, looking unhappy.

'You've not heard the last of this, Minister,' shouted Pepperidge.

Harry and Ron waited until both men had disappeared in the golden lifts, before moving from their observation post. Kingsley exited Madam Scamander's office, a wide smile on his face.

'Ah,' he said, catching sight of them, 'have a good afternoon, gentlemen.'

He too strode off towards the lifts, and Harry and Ron hurried into the department's main office where Hermione was. She had a satisfied-yet-stunned look on her face.

'What happened?' asked Ron.

'It was unbelievable,' she replied. 'I've never seen Kingsley like that.'

'What happened?' Harry repeated.

'Well, we all sat down, and they started their spiel about how werewolves are dangerous and should be locked up. But they'd barely been speaking for a minute when Kingsley cut them off.'

'What did he say?'

'That werewolves are people too; that they shouldn't be villainised, and that he fully supported my work. Then they tried to protest, so Kingsley called them something I'd rather not repeat.'

Ron grinned. 'What did he say?'

'I'm not saying it,' she insisted.

'Write it down.'

'Oh alright, fine.' She wrote the word on a piece of parchment from her desk, and handed it to Ron. He took the sheet, read it, and sniggered.

'He didn't?'

'He did.'

'Wow.'

'_Exactly_. So they stormed out, and now here we are.'

The trio stood in silence for a moment, each with a grin on their face.

'Well, we'd better get back to work,' said Harry.

'Yeah,' Hermione agreed. 'I want to get these plans done before we go home.'

'Let us know if you need any help,' said Ron, following Harry to the door.

'Will do,' she said. 'See you later.'

x x x

'He didn't!' said Ginny. Harry had just filled her in on the T.W.V.A. meeting.

'He did,' said Harry, grinning.

'How brilliant,' she replied. 'Remind me to bake him a cake or something.'

Harry laughed. They were moving furniture in the drawing room, in order to make space for the meeting. Ron and Hermione had gone upstairs, supposedly to fetch down more chairs, though, after they had been gone for twenty minutes, Ginny had hypothesised that they were, in reality, "celebrating the victory".

'You're alright with this plan, aren't you?' Harry asked.

'What, you mean for the Order?' she replied.

'Yeah.'

'Yeah, of course. I'm just glad you're actually letting me fight this time.'

'Plus, you get to boss some people around.'

'I won't deny, that is a perk.' They grinned at each other. 'How long til they get here?' she asked. She was moving towards him, a keen look in her eyes.

'Probably an hour or so, why?'

'I was just thinking, perhaps we could have a quick "celebration" of our own.'

Harry grinned. 'Only if you put up some paper-chains.'

Ginny laughed, and raised her eyebrows. 'Whatever works for you, Harry.' She took his hand, and led him up to their room.

At five to eight came the first knock at the front door. Harry opened it, and showed Cho, Lavender, Percy, Audrey, Fiona Wetlock, and Aberforth Dumbledore into the drawing room. About a minute later, Andromeda Tonks arrived with Teddy in her arms.

'Hello,' said Harry, in a soft voice to Teddy. Teddy giggled and turned his hair from grass-green to jet-black.

'Hiiiiiya,' he said, happily. He stretched his arms towards Harry for a hug, and Andromeda handed him over.

With Andromeda following, Harry carried Teddy into the drawing room, where the toddler's eyes fell upon Ariana.

'Birdie,' said Teddy, pointing. 'I want birdie.' Harry set him down on the floor beside the phoenix's stand, and Ariana hopped down to the floor to play. She cooed happily as Teddy clapped.

By eight o'clock, thirty other people had arrived, and were seated in a circle around the edge of the drawing room.

Harry got to his feet. 'Thank you all for coming,' he said.

'You're very welcome,' said George, loudly. Most of the others laughed, although Mrs Weasley rolled her eyes.

'You all know why we're here,' Harry continued, 'the new Order of the Phoenix.'

'...other crime fighting teams are available,' said George. Angelina elbowed him in the ribs.

'After Voldemort's defeat, I'm sure many of you were hoping that we'd never have to reform...'

'Hear hear,' said Kingsley, nodding.

'...but with the new threat posed by the Legion, I fear we have no choice. I won't deny that she's strong. She has the powers and abilities of all the beings she's consumed, but we have one great advantage: there is only _one_ of her.

'No Death Eaters, no Inferi, no vampire army; just Legion herself. There are forty of us here tonight, and I for one, like those odds.'

'I've never really thought of you as a gambling man, Harry,' said Luna.

'No, Luna, it's a figure of speech,' said Professor McGonagall. She sounded a little exasperated.

'Oh, that does seem more likely,' Luna agreed.

Harry smiled. 'Anyway,' he said, 'Hermione and I have been talking, and we think we've come up with a good idea. In the old Order, there was one leader, and everyone else followed. However, we don't know what Legion's next target will be, and we need to cover multiple options. Therefore, Hermione's devised a hierarchy. Hermione...'

Harry sat down as Hermione got to her feet. 'Yes,' she said, 'if nobody objects, I thought it was sensible to designate Harry as leader. After all, Minister Shacklebolt is a very busy man, and Professor McGonagall has her duties at Hogwarts.'

'Fine with me,' said Kingsley.

'And me,' said McGonagall.

Hermione smiled. 'Good, then Harry will be our – for want of a better word – _General_. Below him are the Minister and the Professor as _Colonels_. They each oversee two _Majors_, who are Ron, Molly, Arthur, and myself, and we each lead two _Captains_, who each head up a team of three or four. Did everyone follow that?'

It was quite clear that they hadn't, and so – to several people's horror – Hermione produced a chart she had made, and passed it around the circle.

'I've tried to base everyone's ranking on their level of experience in facing dark magic, and their seniority in the old Order. If anyone has any problems with it, I'm happy to reconsider.'

Dedalus Diggle put his hand up. 'If you don't mind, Miss Granger, I would prefer not to serve as a Captain – I'd rather not take on the responsibility – perhaps someone else could take my place?'

'I would be willing to do zat,' said Madame Maxime. 'If you will 'ave me.'

'Any issues with that?' asked Harry, addressing the room. There was silence. 'Then the job's yours, Olympe.'

Madame Maxime nodded, courteously, and Hermione switched the names on her chart with a poke of her wand.

'Charlie,' said Harry, turning to the fourth oldest Weasley in the room, 'are you still happy not to lead a team, as we discussed?'

'Yeah, no problem, Harry,' Charlie replied. 'I'm barely in the country anyway; I work better as an overseas agent.'

'Cool.'

'Where's headquarters going to be?' asked Bill.

'Here again, I suppose,' said Harry. 'There's still a large number of protective enchantments on the house, and one of the four of us is usually at home. If we're all out – Molly, would you be willing...?'

'Yes, by all means,' said Mrs Weasley. 'If no-one's here, pop over to The Burrow, and leave a message with me.'

'Excellent,' said Harry. 'Everyone ok with everything we've covered so far?'

'Err, 'Arry,' said Hagrid, raising his hand. 'Are yeh sure yeh want me leadin' a team. I ain't done much duellin' before now.'

Harry smiled. 'Hagrid, there's no-one I would rather have than you. You'll keep your members safe, and I'll work with you on duelling if you like.'

Hagrid smiled, and nodded. 'Ahh, yer a good lad, 'Arry.'

'Anyone else?' asked Hermione. Andromeda raised her hand.

'Obviously, I'll help in any way I can,' she said, 'but I've got Teddy to think about, and I can't leave him on his own. I was wondering if I could be considered a part-time member?'

Harry looked at Teddy, who was still sat in the middle of the floor, playing with Ariana. He knew he'd never be able to live with himself if Teddy lost another family member.

'Of course you can,' said Harry. 'We'll only ask for your assistance when we absolutely need it. Is that ok?'

'That's perfect,' she replied. On the floor, Teddy clapped once again as Ariana fluttered over his head.

'Right, if there's nothing else, can we move on to team assignments?'

'Pardonne-moi, 'Arry,' said Fleur, 'but I must ask you to grant me ze same favour.'

'Part-time membership?'

'Oui.'

'Why's that?'

Fleur smiled, and glanced at Bill. Also smiling, he nodded back at her, encouragingly.

'Bill and I are going to 'ave a baby.'

'No!' said George, looking both stunned and pleased.

'Yes,' replied Bill.

The meeting forgotten, everyone got to their feet to offer their congratulations; shaking Bill's hand, kissing Fleur's cheek, and asking questions.'

'When are you due?' asked Hermione.

'Ze first week of May,' Fleur replied. 'We 'ave known for a while.'

'What are you hoping for Bill?' asked Kingsley. 'A boy or a girl?'

'If there's ten fingers and ten toes, I'll be happy, Minister,' said Bill, beaming. However, he was prevented from answering any more questions, as his mother had pulled him into a tight hug.


	15. Chapter 15: The Battle at the Bank

**Chapter 15 – The Battle at the Bank**

Knockturn Alley was hidden by darkness. It had remained closed for years, and the shop fronts were empty; disfigured by the gloom. It was quiet, except for the distant mumble of traffic coming from the adjacent muggle street. The silence was pierced by a popping sound, startling a pair of dozing pigeons on a nearby rooftop, as a cloaked figure appeared from nowhere.

The figure clasped its wand tight in hand, concealed beneath its robes; ready to attack. It set off, moving swiftly along the passage that connected Knockturn Alley to Diagon. It was an early February evening, and the Alley was already dressed in shadow, with very few people about. The figure hurried down the cobbled street, too quickly to avoid a little old man as he exited the Apothecary. They clattered into each other, knocking the figure to the floor; her hood falling away to reveal her blonde hair.

'Forgive me Madam,' said the old man, offering his hand to help her up. 'Entirely my fault; entirely mine.'

'That's ok,' she muttered, ignoring his hand, and getting to her feet.

'Dedalus Diggle, at your service,' he said. 'Can I offer you a drink at the Leaky Cauldron, by way of an apology?'

'No, thank you,' she said, 'I have business elsewhere.'

'Perhaps some other time,' said Diggle. 'Again, my apologies.'

The woman half-smiled, turned on her heel, and continued along the Alley, leaving Diggle looking a little affronted.

Finally, she arrived at her destination and swept up the marble steps. At the top, a young witch was sitting guard; she looked up from her newspaper, and smiled at the woman.

'Good evening, Madam,' she said, warmly. The woman nodded to her, and walked into the bank.

She strode across the main hall, and came to a halt at the top desk. There was a sheet of parchment pinned to it, with a list of names attached.

_BANNED LIST_

_The following members of the magical community are no longer considered welcome patrons of the Gringotts Magical Banking Group:_

_Orla Mawdesley _

_Ludovic Bagman_

_Eileen Slinkhard_

_Conrad Richmond_

_Harry Potter_

_Maynard Boothroyd_

'Good evening, Madam,' said the goblin, peering down at her. 'Welcome to Gringotts, my name is Nagrod. How can I serve you?'

'If you don't mind,' she said, raising her wand to the goblin's face, 'I'd quite like to help myself.'

Outside the bank, a flash of blue light shone out through the doors, followed by a whooshing sound, and a colossal bang. Dropping her paper, the young witch leapt up from her chair, and darted into the bank.

'Merlin's beard,' she murmured to herself, staring around.

All the goblins were unconscious, slumped forward on their desks. A couple of patrons were sprawled across the floor, and the door to the vaults had been blasted open. The top desk was the only vacant one, as Nagrod had vanished. The witch pointed her wand to the door, and muttered an incantation. A bright, silver swan swam from the tip, and glided out through the door.

x x x

'What's keeping him?' Ron muttered. 'He started cooking hours ago.'

'Give him a break,' said Harry. 'He is doing it by himself, after all.'

'How difficult is it to roast a chicken?'

'As _if_ you've ever roasted a chicken!' said Hermione.

'Sprinkle it with thyme, stick a lemon up it, and leave it in the oven until the juice runs clear.'

'Oh, then I beg your pardon,' she replied. 'Did _not_ see that coming.'

'We grew up with Mum,' said Ginny, 'we were frying sausages before we could walk.'

'_Not __roasted __a __chicken_,' Ron tutted. 'You should've come to my fourth birthday party.'

Ginny smiled, and turned to Harry. 'Who's on guard tonight?'

'George, Angelina and Lee Jordan are in Hogsmeade, Neville, Fiona Wetlock, and your Dad are at the Ministry, and Cho and Dedalus are in Diagon Alley.'

'You put Dedalus on duty at the Alley, again?' asked Ron. 'After last time?'

'To be fair,' said Hermione, 'how was he supposed to know that _wasn__'__t_ a dementor?'

'He sent a Patronus charging into a group of eight year olds,' said Ron, flatly. 'How could anyone think they _were_ a dementor?'

'At least no-one was hurt,' Hermione shrugged.

Ron's stomach rumbled. 'Come on, Kreacher; I'm _starving_.'

'It'll be ready when it's ready,' Harry sighed. Ron pulled a disgruntled face.

'By the way, Harry,' said Ginny, putting down her coffee mug, 'do you still need me to go to the bank for you tomorrow?'

'Oh, yeah, if you would. I've only got about six galleons left.'

The drawing room door swung open, and Kreacher scuttled inside.

'Dinner is ready, Master Harry,' he said, bowing low.

'Finally!' said Ron.

They all got to their feet, just as the room was filled with a shining light. Harry looked around for the source of it, and saw there was a silver swan perched on the sideboard.

The swan opened its mouth, and spoke with a slightly mumbled version of Cho Chang's voice.

'She's here,' it said. 'She's here at Gringotts. The goblins are unconscious; she's in the vaults. Send help.'

The swan faded, and they stood in silence for a moment. Eventually, Kreacher spoke.

'Come along, Master,' he said, turning towards the door. 'Kreacher's chicken will get cold.'

'Wrap it up for us, will you Kreacher?' Harry replied. 'Looks like we're going out. Hermione, can you...?'

'I'm on it,' she said, removing a galleon from her pocket. She tapped it with her wand, and Harry could just see the writing around the edge change.

'What did you say?' Ron asked.

'Gringotts, now,' she replied. 'Think that should do it.'

'Are you already to go?' Harry asked.

'I need my shoes,' said Ginny, running out of the room to fetch them.

'Yeah,' said Ron, following her, 'and I need a jumper if we're going into the vaults.'

'Hermione?'

'I'm ready,' she said, tucking her wand into her robes and pocketing the fake-galleon.

Ginny came hopping back into the room, her wand between her teeth, and pulling on her boots. She was followed by Ron, who had his head stuck in the sleeve of his jumper.

'Help!' he said, through the wool-layer. 'I'm stuck.'

Hermione helped him get free, and then turned back to Harry. 'We can't Apparate into the bank,' she said. 'It's got the same enchantments on it as Hogwarts. We'll have to Apparate into the Alley.'

'Actually,' said Harry, 'I've got a better idea.' He looked over his shoulder to where Ariana was sitting on her perch, watching them.

x x x

'Where are they?' asked George. 'We got all the way here from Hogsmeade. They only live five minutes away.'

'I'm sure they're on their way, George,' said Mr Weasley. 'The whole Order will be on their way for this; I'm sure they're just...'

There was a burst of flame in the middle of the bank, so bright that the gathered group had to shield their eyes. When the flame had gone, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny were standing there, with Ariana fluttering above them.

'And I thought _our_ Apparition was unpleasant,' said Ron, massaging his stomach.

'Oi!' shouted one of the now-conscious-again goblins, his eyes falling on Harry. Harry ignored him, and strode over to Cho.

'What happened?' he asked.

'She walked right in passed me,' she said. 'I'm sorry Harry; I didn't know what she looked like.'

'Oi,' the goblin repeated, getting down from his desk, and walking around.

'Speak quickly,' said Harry, 'he's about to try and throw me out.'

'Ok,' said Cho, 'she absorbed one of the goblins and knocked out all the others, as well as a few customers who were in here. Then it seems she's blasted open the tunnel doors, and the goblins say she's taken one of the carts.'

'They can track those?' asked Ginny.

'Not exactly, Miss,' said the goblin, who had finally caught up to them. 'One of the carts is missing, and they won't move unless a Gringotts goblin is driving them.'

'Sorry,' said Ron, seemingly confused, 'are we saying that Legion's got a goblin's abilities now?'

'Apparently,' said Harry.

'Mr Potter,' said the goblin, 'you are not allowed in this building.'

Harry sighed. 'You're kidding, right? I'm here to help you.'

'Who are you, anyway?' asked Ron.

'Bludrook,' said the goblin. 'And we goblins do not need help from wizards; certainly not from those who seek to steal from our vaults.'

'One vault!' said Harry, exasperated. 'I stole from one vault, once! And that was under some pretty exceptional circumstances.'

'And as for your not needing our help,' said Mr Weasley. 'You can't stop Legion now. She has all your abilities; she will break through all your enchantments with ease.'

'There is more than just enchantments guarding the vaults of Gringotts,' said the goblin, angrily.

'What? Dragons?' said Hermione. 'You really think she can't get passed dragons?' The confident look in the goblin's eye flickered slightly, but he shook it off, and turned back to Harry.

'Mr Potter, you must leave.'

'Every second we're having this argument,' said Harry, 'Legion is raiding another of your vaults. I'm here as an auror, and as leader of this team. Now let me ask you – do you really want to banish me from the building?'

A minute later, Harry found himself outside the bank, alone, except for Ariana who was sitting on his shoulder.

'Guess they did want me out,' he muttered. Ariana cooed. 'At least the others are all in there, now.'

While Harry had been arguing with Bludrook, many other members of the Order had arrived, and now nearly twenty of them were racing through the tunnels beneath the bank, each with a goblin escort.

'Well there's no way I'm waiting here,' said Harry. 'What do you think? Shall we join the fun?' Ariana cooed again, and fluttered off his shoulder so he could take hold of her feet.

In another burst of flame, Ariana Disapparated them both into the tunnels below – except, she'd misjudged their Apparition point. Harry let go of her legs as they reappeared, only to find himself falling. They'd re-emerged at the top of a long tunnel-shaft, and Harry had already fallen twenty feet before he'd realised what had happened.

'HEEEEEEEEEEEEELP!' Harry yelled. He heard a voice below him, and looked down to see someone standing at the bottom of the shaft.

'_Aresto __Momentum!_'

Harry felt himself slowing down, and came to a gentle halt half a yard from the floor, from which he dropped to land comfortably on his feet.

'How did you get in?' asked Hermione, lowering her wand. Her question was soon answered though, as Ariana landed on his shoulder.

'Potter!' snapped Bludrook, jogging down the tunnel towards them, followed by Ginny, Luna, Dedalus Diggle, Madame Maxime, Percy, and Audrey. 'How'd you get down here? I'll escort you back out immediately.'

'Oh for goodness sake,' Hermione sighed, raising her wand to Bludrook. '_Imperio_.'

A relaxed, carefree look spread across the goblin's face as the Imperius curse took effect.

'Hermione Granger!' gasped Percy. 'I can't believe you just did that.'

'To be fair, _I_ was about to do it,' said Harry.

'Me too,' said Ginny.

'Et moi,' said Madame Maxime.

'And me,' said Audrey. Percy spun around to gawp at her, quite taken aback by his wife's dark side.

'Now,' said Harry, 'any sign of her yet?'

'Couple of vaults have been blasted open back up the tunnel,' said Ginny. 'We think she must've come this way.'

'Yes,' Bludrook repeated, in a dreamy voice. 'Come this way.'

'What do you want us to do, Harry?' asked Luna.

'We need to get after her,' he said. 'Something tells me she's heading for the high security vaults.'

They ran back along the tunnel to where Bludrook's empty cart was, and they all climbed in. It had already been quite a squeeze with Madame Maxime in it, but the addition of Harry and Ariana had made it incredibly cramped. Bludrook, on Hermione's orders, was guiding the cart down the tracks.

'Hermione!' Harry shouted. 'What're we going to do about the Thief's Downfall?'

She stared back at him, a blank look on her face. 'Oh,' she said, 'crap.'

'Everybody hold tight!' Harry bellowed. They darted around a corner, and they saw the waterfall, cascading over the track ahead. The cart shot through it, drenching them all. As they came out the other side, the cart started to rock, attempting to de-rail itself. Hermione pointed her wand at the metal floor.

'Bomdarda!' she cried. The spell ricocheted into the air, striking the tunnel's ceiling, but it had done its job. The impact had settled the cart, forcing it level on the track.

'Brilliant, Hermione!' Harry called.

'What's going on?' asked Bludrook.

'The curse washed off in the Downfall,' said Ginny.

'Imperio,' said Hermione, again. Bludrook returned to his dreamy expression, and stared out at the track ahead, casually steering them on. As they rounded another few corners, Harry noticed that the tunnel seemed brighter ahead. Another sharp corner, and the reason for the brightness was revealed; waiting on the track ahead was a silver Jack Russell terrier.

'Stop the cart!' Harry called.

With a flick of Hermione's wand, Bludrook pulled the brake lever, and they ground to a halt. The silver terrier stood up on its back legs, and opened its mouth.

'She's here,' said Ron's voice. It sounded panicked. 'We're at vault 897. Come quick, we're trying to hold her off.'

'Let's go,' said Harry.

'Bludrook,' said Hermione, 'take us to vault 897, quickly.'

The goblin adjusted the controls, and then released the brake. The cart shot off with a bang. Harry was trying to read the vault numbers as they passed them. 707. 709. 711. 713.

'We just passed my vault!' said Harry, shifting his gaze, as the blurring walls were giving him a headache. 'It's been years since I last saw it.'

'We're in the eight hundreds,' said Ginny. She looked a little green, but was doing her best to keep her eyes open. 'We're nearly there.'

Harry looked up. He could see the flashing curses flying through the air in the tunnel ahead.

'893! Stop the cart!' shouted Hermione. They ground to a halt in the middle of the battle. Legion seemed to be duelling with twelve people at once. Ron and Neville were leading the charge, but several members of the Order were lying on the floor. Whether dead or unconscious, Harry couldn't tell. He jumped out of the cart, wand drawn, pointing it at Legion.

'Stop this!' Harry shouted. 'Everyone fall back.'

'Harry!' said Legion. 'I was starting to think you weren't coming.'

'Come now, Pascalle,' said Harry, 'you're robbing a bank; how could I resist that.'

'Must I keep asking you to call me Legion?'

'Seemingly you must, as I have no intention of doing so.' He glanced at Ron. 'Anyone dead?'

Ron shook his head. 'No, they're just knocked out.'

'Harry! I'm hurt,' said Legion. 'I have no interest in unnecessary killing. Don't get me wrong, I will if I have too, but I have no interest in killing any of you. Stopping you from stopping me is more than sufficient.'

'Then why are you doing this?' asked Ron.

'To live, Mr Weasley,' she said. 'That's all. I'm not the Dark Lord. I don't want to seize power. I have no interest in world domination. Unlike his noselessness, I'm not a walking cliché!'

'Why are you here then?' asked Hermione. 'Why rob the bank?'

'Aren't you listening?' asked Legion. 'I'm going to live forever. Do you have any idea how expensive that is?'

'You won't take any gold from here,' said Harry.

'You think?' said Legion, mockingly. 'Watch what I can do.' She turned to the vault behind her, and ran her finger down the length of the door. It melted away, revealing a huge pile of gold. 'Still think you can stop me?'

Harry stepped towards her. 'I will _always_ stop you, Pascalle.'

'Hold that thought,' said Legion, flicking her wand. Before her spell could reach him, Harry grabbed Bludrook, and dived to the ground behind the cart. When he got back to his feet, Legion had jumped in an empty cart, and raced off down the track. Harry looked around, and saw that her curse had knocked everyone else unconscious.

'What happened?' asked Bludrook, looking around.

'Legion,' said Harry. 'Come on, we've got to get after her.' Harry scooped the goblin up, dropped him in an empty cart, and jumped in too. 'Follow her!'

'It seems I have no choice, Mr Potter; I will help you this one time.'

'Let's go then.'

Bludrook released the brake, and they blasted away from the rest of the Order. The cart was travelling faster than Harry had ever gone in one before, as they plunged, deeper and deeper into the tunnels.

'Where are we?' Harry asked.

'We're passing the ancient vaults,' Bludrook replied. 'She can't be much deeper now.'

They rounded a corner and found themselves on a long straight. In the distance, Harry could see another moving cart.

'There she is!' said Harry. He lifted his wand, and aimed at Legion's cart. '_Bombarda!_'

The jet of light flew down the track ahead of them, and skimmed passed Legion without making contact. Her cart darted around a corner before Harry could fire another spell.

'Faster!' Harry said. Bludrook did as he was told, and Harry was thrown back as the cart sped up.

'This is our top speed,' said Bludrook.

'It'll do,' said Harry, 'look, we're gaining on her.'

He got back to his feet, and, doing his best to balance, raised his wand once again.

'_Confringo!_' Harry shouted.

'_Protego_,' said Legion, turning to meet the curse, wand raised. Harry's Blasting Curse bounced away, smashing into a vault door. They were now just a few yards behind Legion, and Harry could see the whites of her eyes.

'_Expelliarmus!_' he cried, trying to disarm Legion. She batted the spell away with a tiny flick of her wand.

As they rounded another corner, Legion had to turn away from the duel to slow her cart down, and Harry pounced. '_Bombarda Maxima!_'

The spell struck the side of Legion's cart, and sent it toppling off the tracks. Harry could see her falling towards an underground lake. 'Bludrook, stop us! Now!'

The brakes screeched as they pulled up. Harry jumped out, and ran down a flight of steps that led to the lakeside. Bludrook ran after him, keen to stop the woman who had broken into his beloved bank.

Harry hadn't even reached the bottom of the steps when he was duelling again.

'_Protego!_' he shouted, deflecting a jet of purple light. He pointed his wand back at Legion. '_Langlock!_'

Legion dodged Harry's curse, and shouted, '_Crucio!_' It was Harry's turn to duck, but he only just got out of the way in time.

'_Petrificus Totalus!_' said Harry. The jinx should have struck Legion square in the chest, but her shield-belt deflected it at the last moment.

'I don't know why you're still trying to beat me, Harry. I'm the only one who can leave here! Even if you defeat me, you'll be stuck in this cave forever.'

'No I won't,' said Harry. 'Bludrook will get me out.'

'Will he now?' asked Legion. 'I don't think he'll be able to; _Avada __Kedavra!_'

The jet of green light flew from her wand, and struck the surprised goblin in the face. Bludrook fell down the last few steps, dead.

'No!' said Harry. '_Sectumsempra!_'

'_Protego Maxima_,' said Legion, knocking the curse away.

'_CRUCIO!_' shouted Harry. The curse hit Legion in the chest. She dropped to the ground, writhing in agony. Harry stepped closer, looking down on her.

'What happened to "I don't kill people"?' he asked.

'That's not what I said,' Legion cackled. 'I said I only kill when it's necessary, and preventing you leaving here seemed _very_ necessary.'

'_You_ won't be leaving _Azkaban_,' said Harry. 'I'll hand you to the guards personally; I promise you that, Pascalle.' Planning to stun her, he raised his wand again, but a smile broke across her face.

'Fool,' she cackled, and with a loud crack, she Disapparated.

'NO! Not again!' Harry shouted, angrily. 'ARIANA!' There was burst of flame, and the phoenix appeared at his side, gently flapping her wings. 'She got away again,' he muttered, stroking her feathers. 'I gave her a second to get away, and she did.' Ariana cooed.

Harry walked over to Bludrook, and scooped him over his shoulder. 'Come on,' he said to Ariana. 'Take me back up to the others; I need to check they're ok.'

Another flash of flame, and they were back outside vault 897; Madame Maxime was already back on her feet, and, wand in hand, was doing her best to revive the others. Ron and Hermione were propped up together against the wall, arm-in-arm.

'What happened?' they asked together.

'I had her; I had her right there in front of me,' said Harry, his voice still full of anger. 'She got away. I gave her a second, and she took it.'

'Did she take anything with her?' asked Hermione.

'No.'

'Well that's something,' said Ron, 'at least you kept her away from the gold.'

'For now,' said Harry. 'She can Disapparate in and out of here now. We'll have to tell the goblins to increase their security measures. Where's Ginny?'

'Over there,' said Hermione, pointing. 'I think she's fine; just stunned.'

Harry walked over, crouched down, and held her in his arms. He pointed his wand at her chest, and muttered, '_ennervate_.'

Ginny opened her eyes, saw Harry, and threw her arms around him. 'Are you ok?'

'Am _I_ ok?' he said. 'I'm not the one who's been knocked out for ten minutes.'

'And _I__'__m_ not the one who just chased after Legion.'

'How did you know I chased after her?'

'I guessed,' she replied, with an amused snort. 'The odds were in my favour. Hey, what happened to Bludrook?'

'She killed him; to try and trap me.'

'What a bitch,' said Ginny. Her voice was surprisingly calm, and she said this quite matter-of-factly. Harry kissed her, and in doing so, felt his anger drain away.

x x x

'I'm sorry about Bludrook,' said Harry. 'I never expected her to go for him.'

'It's not your fault, Mr Potter,' said the goblin he was speaking with, 'you did what you could.'

They were back up in the bank's main hall, where the Order's injuries were being treated with phoenix tears from Ariana. Harry and Hermione were talking with Draknut, the Gringotts manager.

'Is there any chance that she just Disapparated into one of the vaults?' asked Hermione.

'No,' said Draknut, 'they're too difficult to land in. She'd either splinch herself, or get trapped inside a wall.'

'That's something I guess,' said Harry. 'Will you install the new security facilities tomorrow?'

'Tonight,' said the goblin. 'We can't risk waiting until the morning now.'

'And what about Harry?' asked Hermione.

'Excuse me?'

'Harry's lifetime ban. Will you lift it now?'

Draknut sniffed, and raised a boney, long-nailed finger to scratch the back of his head. 'I want you to understand Mr Potter, if I do remove your ban, my kind will think me weak...'

'...that's no reason to stop Harry coming in...'

'...please Miss Granger, I'm not finished – I will lift the ban, but I want Mr Potter to realise that I will lose everything if you ever commit another discrepancy against this bank.

'I have no plans too,' said Harry, with a small smile. Draknut did not seem to find this funny.

'I shall require you're word, Mr Potter.'

'Then you have it.'

'Very well then.' Draknut walked across the bank, to the top desk where the banned list was still attached to it. The goblin removed a quill from his jacket, and struck off Harry's name.

'Thank you, Draknut,' he said.

'And you, Mr Potter.'

x x x

'Why do these things always happen at night?' asked Ginny. 'Always at night, never at two in the afternoon; why is that?'

Harry and Ginny were in their bedroom at Grimmauld Place, getting ready for bed. Everyone who'd taken part in the battle had recovered – with Ariana's help – and returned home.

'I don't know,' said Harry. 'I guess these attacks must take all day to plan, and by the time they've thought it through, it's already dinner time. Then you've got to eat...'

'...that's true,' said Ginny, 'you can't do evil on an empty stomach.'

'Exactly, and then, before you know it, it's night time.'

Ginny grinned at Harry from the nightstand, where she sat, brushing her hair. Harry smiled back, and got into bed. She put down her hairbrush, walked over to his side of the bed, and sat down on the edge, beside him. 'Are you ok, baby?'

Harry sighed. 'I wanted to kill her,' he said. 'And if I hadn't known that it wouldn't do any good, I'd have tried it too.'

'Harry...'

'She killed that goblin just to anger me, and it worked. I lost control, Gin. I was stupid, and she got away.'

'Harry,' said Ginny calmly, 'you're the best man I've ever known, but that doesn't mean you're not allowed to get angry. Think what Sirius would've said: the world isn't split into good people and evil people. It's not that simple. You're allowed to be angry, Harry; you're allowed to make mistakes. Just remember that I will always be here for you when you lose your way.'

'Gin, I...'

'Shush,' she said, gently stroking his hair. 'No more talking tonight, Harry; just kiss me.'


	16. Chapter 16: An Only Twin

**Chapter 16 – An Only Twin**

'Merlin's beard, am I glad that's over for the summer,' Ginny exclaimed, flopping into the sofa. She was glistening with sweat, and Kreacher winced as he saw a few beads soak into the fabric. 'How was work, babe?'

'Just the usual,' Harry replied, from the writing desk. 'Pretty quiet really, just all this paperwork to catch up on. Sorry about leaving the match, but Proudfoot called us in. Did you win?'

'Yeah, Glenys caught the snitch this morning, at last. Good thing too; I was starting to worry I'd miss tomorrow.'

It was the last weekend of April, and the Holyhead Harpies' final match of the season had finally finished, after six and a half days of play – just in time for George and Angelina's wedding.

'Pardon Kreacher for saying so, Miss Weasley,' said the elf, bowing low to Ginny, 'but Kreacher has just cleaned the sofas this morning.'

'Oh, sorry,' said Ginny sitting up and wiping the sleeve of her Harpies robe across her forehead. She turned to Harry. 'Where are Ron and Hermione?'

'Ron's over at George's getting ready for the stag night,' Harry replied, not looking up from the desk, 'and Hermione's working late, so she can have tomorrow off.'

'She's working on a Sunday?'

'You know what she like.'

'I do,' said Ginny, getting to her feet and moving towards the door (Kreacher darted around her, and began tending to the sofa's new sweat patch). 'Well I'm just going to jump in the shower; what are you doing?'

'I've just got to finish off these reports,' Harry replied, still not looking up.

'Harry,' she said, in a calm, but deliberate voice. Now, he looked up. 'I've not been home in a week; we've not had the house to ourselves for a month. I'm just going to jump in the shower; what are you doing?'

Harry blinked twice. 'Oh!' he said, catching on. He pulled his t-shirt up to face, sniffed, and grinned. 'Yeah, I could go for a shower, actually.'

Ginny beamed, as Harry threw his quill down on the desk, followed her out the door, and chased her up the stairs to their bathroom.

x x x

Later that evening, Harry joined Ron, George, Bill, Percy, Charlie, Hagrid, Lee, and Oliver Wood in a raucous corner of The Three Broomsticks. Even Percy, not usually one for drinking, appeared to be wearing his glasses upside down.

'Here he is!' Hagrid shouted, as Harry walked in. 'More drinks!' He banged his large hand on the table, so hard that all the tankards leapt into the air. The other men cheered his suggestion. 'Rosmerta! Another round o' mead, if yeh please. An' another glass for Harry.'

'Here you go, boys,' said the barmaid, using her wand to float two almighty barrels towards their table, and settling them down beside the half-giant. 'And nice to see you, Harry.' Hagrid picked one up, and refilled everyone's glass with amber liquid.

'A toast!' said Ron, slightly drunkenly. 'To my brother's last night of singledomness.'

'That's not a word!' Lee Jordan protested, loudly.

'It is now,' Charlie cheered back. 'To George!'

'To George!' the others echoed.

'Where've you been?' asked Ron, as Harry sat down.

'Sorry, I got held up in the shower.'

'No hot water?'

'Something like that,' Harry muttered.

'Alright mate?' said Hagrid, slapping Harry on the shoulder. 'How're things?'

Harry grinned. 'Good thanks, Hagrid,' he replied. 'Quiet at work, no sightings of Legion in weeks, and Ginny's off for the summer. You?'

'Ar, can't complain, Harry, can't complain. Load o' new unicorn foals jus' bin born in the forest, so tha's keepin' me busy. Here, 'ave a drink, yeh're at least three behind.'

'Get him caught up, Hagrid,' said George. 'Sober men aren't welcome at this table!'

'Rosmerta, we're gonna need a bottle of firewhiskey,' said Charlie.

The next few hours sailed by in a drunken haze, but eventually, everyone settled down and sobered up enough for a sensible conversation.

'Anyone else fancy a pumpkin pasty?' asked Percy. 'I really fancy a pumpkin pasty.'

'Nah,' said Bill. 'I need something with meat in it. In Egypt you used to be able to get these pita bread things filled with meat. They were great.'

'That's a kebab,' said Harry.

'Yeah, that's it; how did you know that?'

'You get them in muggle Chip-shops.'

'You're joking.'

'I'm not.'

'Do me a favour, remind me of that tomorrow when I'm sober.' Everyone laughed.

'Any nerves, Georgie?' asked Charlie.

'About the wedding?' George replied.

'No, about that manticore wrestling competition you entered. Of course about the wedding.'

'Not especially,' said George. 'Just, y'know...'

'We miss him too, bro,' said Bill, reassuringly. 'And I'm sure he'd be happy for you.'

There was a moment of awkward silence, as all the men stared into their glasses.

'Another round?' asked Ron.

'Not for me,' said Percy, getting to his feet. I ought to get to bed. Something tells me I'm going to have quite the hangover in the morning.'

'Nor for me,' said Bill. 'I should get home to Fleur; I promised I wasn't going to be out late.'

'How's she doing, Bill?' asked Harry.

'Incredibly pregnant,' he replied, 'should be any day now, we think.'

Ron got to his feet, wobbled, and sat back down. 'I'm still pretty drunk,' he muttered.

'At least you don't have to go to work tomorrow,' said George.

'Yeah, I've been meaning to ask,' said Lee. 'Why are you getting married on a Monday night?'

'You know me,' said George, grinning from ear to ear. 'Anything for a laugh.'

'Alright,' said Harry, also getting to his feet. 'I'll see you all tomorrow. C'mon Ron.'

With a great deal of effort, everyone got up, said their goodnights, and disapparated home – Harry had to carry Ron, to save him from splinching himself.

'Where've you been?' asked Hermione, as she opened the front door to let them in.

'Hey gorgeous!' said Ron, stumbling through the door. 'We've been at the...' Ron stopped talking mid sentence, and instead, fell face first into the floor with a prolonged, 'ohhhhhhh dear...'

Hermione turned to Harry. 'Good night then, I take it?'

'From what I can remember, yes,' said Harry. They both bent down and helped Ron back to his feet. 'How was work?'

'I didn't go to work today,' said Ron, seemingly confused.

'Not you mate.'

'Oh, my mistake.'

'It was alright,' said Hermione, rolling her eyes at Ron, 'except Mr Horton came to see me. Apparently continuing to hide the native dragon population is an abuse of magical tradition. Idiot.'

'Why do we keep letting him and Pepperidge in the building?'

'I'll keep them out for you, 'Mione,' said Ron, with a small hiccough. 'Just watch me.'

'I'm sure you will, Ronald,' she replied.

They eventually reached Ron and Hermione's bedroom, and Harry helped lower Ron on to the bed, before turning to leave.

'I think Gin's asleep by the way,' said Hermione, 'so try and be quiet when you go in.'

'Thanks,' Harry replied. 'G'night.'

'Sleep tight,' muttered Ron, rolling over on the bed.

Harry crept into his room, and sure enough, Ginny was in bed, asleep. Harry went and brushed his teeth, and then undressed as quietly as he could. Unfortunately, as he went to hang up his trousers, a handful of sickles fell out of the pockets, and scattered noisily across the floor.

'Harry?' asked Ginny, rubbing her eyes.

'Sorry,' he whispered. 'Dropped some coins; go back to sleep.'

'Ok, did you have fun?'

'Yeah,' he said, getting into bed, 'and a bit too much drink.'

'That's ok,' said Ginny, cuddling up to him, 'you should've seen the state Hermione was in after the hen night.'

x x x

The following morning, everyone had finished eating breakfast, except for Ron.

'Is there any more bacon, Kreacher?' he asked, gazing hopefully towards the hob.

'Kreacher can cook more, if Master Weasley would like it,' said Kreacher.

'No,' said Ron, looking disappointed, 'no, don't worry. It was only if there was any spare.'

'Right, we're going up to get dressed,' said Hermione. Both she and Ginny were still in their dressing gowns.

'You two need to change as well,' said Ginny. 'Mum wants us over there at eleven.'

The girls left, and immediately Ron turned to Harry. 'Listen mate, don't bother the girls with this, but I'm worried about George.'

'We're all worried about George,' said Harry, taking a bite of toast.

'Yeah, only, I mean, like, _for real_.'

'Oh, ok. You mean about Fred?'

'Yeah, ever since the battle, George has never really acknowledged that Fred's... y'know...'

'Dead?' Kreacher suggested.

'Get out Kreacher,' Ron snapped. Kreacher scowled, and disapparated with a crack.

'You're worried after last night?'

Ron nodded. 'I think today might be the day. Just keep an eye on him for me, so if he needs us, we can be there.'

'Yeah,' said Harry. 'Of course, no worries.'

When eleven o'clock rolled around, they disapparated to the Burrow, and Ginny led the way into the kitchen.

'Morning!' she said brightly.

'Ah, good, you're here,' said Mrs Weasley. She was standing at the sink, peeling potatoes. 'Ron, Hermione, can you go and help Arthur and the boys with the marquee. Ginny, go upstairs; the other bridesmaids are helping Angelina get ready. Harry dear, can you peel the rest of these for me?'

'No problem,' said Harry, as Ron and Hermione walked back out the kitchen door, and up to the garden.

'Good morning 'Arry,' said Fleur. She was sitting at the kitchen table, wearing a pink summer-dress, and chopping carrots into sticks. Bill's description from the previous night of her being "incredibly pregnant" was accurate; her baby-bump was quite large, and looked almost comical on her petite-frame.

'Hi Fleur,' said Harry, fishing out the potato peeler from the bottom of the sink. 'You look...'

'Fat,' she said, flatly. 'I know, but eet eez only a few days until I am due.'

'Actually, I was going to say "you look nice",' he replied.

'Oh, zat eez very nice of you, though to be 'onest, I am 'appy zat ze little one eez almost 'ere. Nervous, but 'appy.'

'I think you'll be a great Mum.'

'Thank you,' she replied, scooping up the last of her carrots and tossing them into a pan. 'Zo, I am not sure whezzer me, Bill or Molly eez most excited!'

'Yeah, said Harry, laughing, 'you get that feeling a lot in this house!'

x x x

'Witches and wizards,' said Charlie, his wand raised to his throat to magically amplify his voice, 'please be upstanding for the bride and groom.'

Everyone clapped, as George and Angelina walked back into the marquee for the wedding breakfast, both beaming. George wore an emerald green, three-piece suit, and Angelina was wearing a white dress that stopped at the knee. The wedding ceremony had finished an hour before, and the couple had since gone back inside the house to change their clothes. The ceremony itself had held many of George's typical surprises, including the bride and groom apparating to the front – rather than walking down the aisle – and an explosion of Peruvian darkness powder when the moment came for George to kiss the bride.

'Did Angelina not want to get married at her parents' house?' asked Harry, applauding along with everyone else.

'Honestly Harry, don't you ever read?' Hermione retorted. 'It's wizarding tradition that the couple always get married at the groom's family home.'

'Is it?'

'Why did you think all the weddings we go to are here? It's because this is where all the Weasley boys grew up.'

'Oh,' said Harry, nodding thoughtfully. Then, before he could stop it, an image flickered across his brain of Ginny, dressed in white, standing in the Dursleys' garden, with a scowling Uncle Vernon surrounded by wizards. 'I don't much fancy Privet Drive for mine,' he muttered. Hermione smiled sympathetically.

The two of them were sat together, away from Ron and Ginny, who were sitting at the top table with the happy couple. Harry and Hermione were joined by Alicia Spinnet, Katie Bell, a Gryffindor from George's year called Patricia Stimpson, and Oliver Wood.

On the other side of the marquee, Ginny, who was wearing a green bridesmaid's dress (which, as usual, Aunt Muriel had loudly derided for it 'showing too much skin') looked over to Harry, and winked; he grinned, and waved back.

'You two've been together a while now, haven't you?' asked Alicia. She was sitting the other side of Hermione, and had noticed the exchange between Harry and Ginny.

'Erm, we got back together about two years,' Harry replied, taking a sip of butterbeer from the goblet in front of him.

'Any wedding bells on the horizon for you two?' asked Katie.

Harry nearly spluttered his drink across the table, but managed to divert most of it down his chin. 'What? No! Why? Have you heard something?'

'Bloody hell, Harry,' said Oliver. 'Panic much?'

Harry mopped himself up with his napkin. 'Don't get me wrong; I want to, but, y'know...'

'No, we don't,' said Alicia.

'Well, aren't we a bit young?'

'No time like the present!' said Katie, who, like all the girls, seemed to find this conversation highly amusing.

'But... Hermione, help me out here.'

'Sorry Harry,' said Hermione, grinning. 'My parents got engaged when they were twenty, so it seems fine to me.'

'Well we can't get married until we get rid of you and Ron,' Harry replied, looking to move the conversation away from him. 'When are you two going to get engaged?'

Hermione blushed. 'Oh, you know, one day...' she muttered. 'Anyway, Katie, I hear you're running Madam Malkin's new Hogsmeade branch...'

Conversation continued as the food arrived, served by waiters in green-satin dress robes. Harry ate several plates of food, and talked at length with Oliver about Quidditch, and England's chances in the following year's World Cup.

'Seriously,' said Oliver, 'I reckon next year could be our best chance in ages. The Bulgarians have still got Krum, but he's not as quick as he was, and they're weak defensively. The Irish will be favourites, but they're an ageing team. I really think next year is _our_ year.'

'The big one,' said Alicia.

'The one we've all been waiting for,' Katie added.

Oliver rolled his eyes. 'I've not done that speech in years,' he muttered, 'and still I'm getting stick for it.'

Harry, Alicia, and Katie roared with laughter, as Lee Jordan got to his feet, and tapped his glass with a salad fork. 'Speeches!' he shouted. 'It's time for the first speech! Please welcome, the groom, George Weasley.'

There was some clapping, and much cheering, as George got to his feet.

'Witches, wizards,' he began, 'friends, family, former teachers, and elderly distant relatives that Mum made us invite...' He paused for a moment, as everyone laughed, and glanced uncomfortably at Muriel (who seemed oblivious to the fact that he meant her). 'My _wife_ and I...' There was another cheer at this, and Angelina beamed with delight. '...would like to thank you all very much for coming, and spending the evening with us.'

'Hurry up, I've got work tomorrow,' Katie heckled. Again, everyone laughed.

George smiled. 'I won't be long; we've just got a few people to thank. Obviously thanks to Mum and Dad for hosting the wedding...' everyone clapped, and Mrs Weasley dabbed tears from her eyes with her napkin. 'Thanks to Lee for being my best man, and to the bridesmaids for helping Angelina get ready.' There was another round of applause. Harry noticed that George was fiddling nervously with his napkin, and shot Ron a look, who nodded. 'And there's one more person I have to thank,' he said, 'someone who, for obvious reasons couldn't...' George's voice cracked, and his eyes filled with tears, but he tried to carry on. '..._couldn't_ be here tonight...' He paused again. It was as though the words were stuck in his throat, and everyone realised what was coming next. George tried again, but this time only managed two more words. 'My brother...'

It was too much. George burst into tears, and with a hurried sob of 'excuse me,' dashed out of the marquee. Harry, Ron, and Mrs Weasley all jumped to their feet, but Ron held a hand up to his mother.

'Don't worry Mum,' he said, 'we've got this.'

They hurried after George, and followed him up the garden to Fred's grave, where George was sat, cross-legged, quietly sobbing. Harry and Ron sat down either side of him, and each rested a hand on one his shoulders.

'You alright bro?' asked Ron, after a few moments.

'Yeah,' said George, wiping his eyes with the cuff of his suit. 'Sorry about that.'

'Nothing to be sorry about,' said Harry. 'Everyone gets it.'

'Seems silly,' George sniffed, 'after two years. It's just...'

'What?' asked Ron.

'No, it's nothing.'

'Best to get it out mate,' said Harry. 'If you need to.'

'You'll think I'm stupid.'

'We already think that,' said Ron, reasonably, 'so there's nothing to worry about from us.'

George half-smiled, hesitated for a moment, and then mumbled, 'I never cried at his funeral.' He started sobbing again, and Harry gave his shoulder a supportive squeeze.

'There's nothing wrong with that George,' said a voice behind them. 'Nothing wrong at all.' It was Mrs Weasley, standing with her arms outstretched and silent tears rolling down her cheeks. George got to his feet, and threw his arms around his mother's neck. He sobbed into her shoulder for a few minutes, as she stroked the back of his head. Eventually, he stood up straight again, and Mrs Weasley cupped his face with her hands, wiping away his tears with her thumbs. 'Just because you didn't cry then,' she said, kindly, 'doesn't mean you don't miss him.'

George nodded. 'Thanks Mum.'

'No-one expects you to grieve all at once,' said Harry. 'You're allowed to do it in your own time.'

George turned, and pulled Harry and Ron each into a one-armed hug. 'Thanks boys,' he said. 'I appreciate it.'

He reached down and patted Fred's headstone, and smiled, before turning away, and walking back down the garden towards the marquee.

'Thank you for making the effort boys,' said Mrs Weasley, smiling softly, and wiping the tears from her own cheeks with a handkerchief from her pocket, 'but sometimes, no matter how old he is, a boy just needs his mother.'

She patted them both affectionately on the arm, and followed George back down the garden.

x x x

All the guests were very kind about George's speech, and did their best not to make him feel embarrassed. Instead, they drank, danced, laughed, and chatted late into the night.

At midnight, Harry and Ginny were finally sitting together at the head table, with a still-wide-awake Teddy sitting on Ginny's lap, weaving her hair between his fingers. Harry smiled, as he watched Ron and Hermione waltzing around the floor; Ron's lips were moving as he counted out the steps.

'Fleur was winding me up earlier,' said Ginny, trying to stop Teddy falling as he wriggled in her arms.

'What about?' asked Harry.

'_When will eet be you and 'Arry's turn to get mareed?_' she mimicked.

'Yeah, I was getting that from Alicia and Katie.'

Ginny smiled. 'There's no rush, you know.'

'No?'

'Not especially,' she said. 'I'd like to, of course, but I think we should at least wait until Ron and Hermione move out.'

'That's exactly what I said,' said Harry, with a smirk.

'Good,' she said, glancing over at the waltzing couple, 'though I've got a feeling that we won't have to wait very long.'

'What do you mean?' asked Harry. Ginny smiled, and leaned forward to place a small, gentle kiss on his lips.

'Kissy kissy!' interrupted Teddy. Ginny grinned at the toddler, and lifted him up to place a big kiss on his cheek.

'Kissy kissy for you too,' she said. Teddy laughed and clapped his hands together.

Across the marquee, came the shattering sound of a wine-glass hitting the floor, followed by a loud, 'Oh my,' from Mrs Weasley. Harry jumped to his feet to see what was going on.

Mrs Weasley was sitting at a table with Bill and Fleur, who had a hand on her baby-bump, and all three of them had very surprised looks on their faces.

'What's going on?' asked Ron, loudly.

'I think ma waters 'ave just broken,' said Fleur, with a half-terrified-half-excited look on her face. Evidently, it was she who had dropped the glass.

'Ok,' said Mrs Weasley, jumping to her feet. 'No need to panic; let's go to St Mungo's. Arthur, fetch Fleur's labour-bag.'

'Yes dear,' said Mr Weasley, jumping up and dashing off to the house.

Mrs Weasley turned to Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny. 'You four, make sure all the guests leave with their coats, and then follow us to the hospital.'

'Yes Mum,' said Ginny.

'George, Angelina,' she said, kissing each of them on the cheek, 'congratulations, I'm very proud of you both; enjoy your honeymoon. Sorry we have to go.'

'We can come with you, if you like,' said Angelina, getting to her feet.

'No, don't worry,' said Bill, flicking his wand at the broken glass, so that it reformed on the table. 'We'll be fine; you two go and have fun; we'll see you when you get back.'

Mrs Weasley helped Fleur to her feet, and guided her out of the marquee.

'It's all very exciting, isn't it?' said Muriel, loudly.

x x x

The halls of St Mungo's were very quiet, except for the noise of Teddy who was chatting happily to a portrait of an elderly healer, who was holding up an ear trumpet.

'How's he still awake?' Hermione whispered. 'Teddy's got more energy than me!'

'He's like this every time we babysit,' said Harry, who had Teddy on his lap.

'I know, but I never get used to it!'

Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Teddy were sitting in the corridor outside Fleur's room. Upon their arrival, they'd been told to wait by a healer with a long beard and purple eyebrows, while Mr and Mrs Weasley had joined Bill at Fleur's bedside. They'd been waiting for a little over an hour.

'Anyone fancy a tea?' Ron asked, getting to his feet. 'I think the cafeteria's still open downstairs.'

'I've got a better idea,' said a voice. Ron looked around, to see his father stood in the doorway. 'Would you like to come and meet your niece?'

'Niece?' said Ron. 'You mean it's a girl?'

'She certainly is,' said Mr Weasley. 'Come on in, but be quiet. She's asleep.'

Harry scooped Teddy up in his arms, and Mr Weasley stood back to hold the door open, as they filed into the room.

Bill was sitting on the edge of Fleur's bed, with Mrs Weasley peering over his shoulder. Fleur, was sitting upright, looking exhausted but delighted, and in her arms, wrapped in a white blanket, was a tiny, sleeping, baby girl, who had a few locks of her mother's hair clutched in her little hand. Like her mother, she already had a patch of silver-blonde hair covering her head.

'Awwww,' said Hermione and Ginny together, smiling at the little girl.

'Does she have a name?' Harry asked Bill.

'She does,' said Bill, 'Uncle Ron and Aunty Ginny, meet Victoire.'

'Pretty baby,' said Teddy, happily, before burying his face in Harry's shoulder.

'Look at that,' said Mrs Weasley, smiling at Teddy, 'not even an hour old, and she's already got an admirer.' Bill and Mr Weasley chuckled.

'Victoire's a beautiful name,' said Hermione. 'I assume it's because of the date.' Bill nodded.

'What date?' asked Ron.

'Today's May the second,' said Hermione. 'It's the anniversary of the war ending.'

'We thought eet was appropriate,' said Fleur, beaming down at her daughter.

'Nice,' said Harry, smiling, 'that's nice.'

'I'm a grandmother!' said Mrs Weasley, putting a hand to her chest. 'I can't believe I'm a grandmother. What shall we get her to call me?'

'I think Nanna Weasley suits you, Mum,' said Bill.

'Yes, I like that,' she said, nodding.

'What about you, Dad? Are you going to be Grandpa Weasley?'

'Granddad, I think,' said Mr Weasley. 'I think that makes me sound wise.'

'Yes,' Ron agreed, 'like the sort of man who can teach her how to rewire a plug.'

Everyone sniggered at this, but Mr Weasley ignored it, and turned to his granddaughter. 'You just ignore them Victoire; you're Granddad will always be here to give you advice.'

x x x

It was very early morning when Mr and Mrs Weasley, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and a-finally-sleeping Teddy returned to the Burrow. Charlie was still up, and had made them all tea.

'What a night!' said Mrs Weasley, sighing happily, as she settled herself into an armchair by the fireplace. 'I've gained a daughter-in-law and a granddaughter! _Two_ new Weasley girls! Who'd have thought it? I assume that's all for the day though, unless anyone else has any announcements.' She chuckled to herself at this, and gazed into the fire.

Ron cleared his throat. 'Well, now you mention it...' he said. Everyone's eyes turned to look at him, and Harry noticed his ears turn pink. 'As it happens, yesterday morning I asked Hermione to marry me...'

There was a moment's stunned silence.

'You're joking,' said Charlie, a smile spreading across his face.

Harry turned to Hermione. 'And?' he asked. 'What did you say?'

Hermione beamed, and held up her left hand, to reveal the sparkling new diamond on her ring-finger.


	17. Chapter 17: In Dumbledore's Memory

**Chapter 17 – In Dumbledore's Memory**

Three months had passed, and much to their surprise, news of Ron and Hermione's engagement had become big news in the Wizarding World. This seemed to be for two reasons; the first being that marriages between people with Orders of Merlin were incredibly rare, and the second was that everyone who knew Ron was astounded he'd summoned up the courage to ask.

'Ask is a strong term,' Hermione had said, when Harry asked how he'd proposed. 'He sort of blurted it out, really, while we were on our way to help put the marquee up.'

'But you did mean it?' said Ginny, rounding on Ron to seek reassurance. 'It wasn't an accident.'

'Of course I meant it,' Ron tutted, 'I did have the ring after all; I'd actually got a whole thing planned.'

'Then why did you ask when you did?'

Ron's ears turned bright red. 'I thought she looked nice in the sunshine,' he muttered, with a shrug.

'I'm just glad he asked,' said Hermione, brightly, 'it's better than waiting _another_ seven years and then having to do it myself again!' Ron had rolled his eyes at this, while the others were laughing.

However, it was neither Ron and Hermione's engagement nor Victoire's arrival that was the highest priority for the Weasley family. Having finally accepted his grief over losing Fred, and in spite of the best efforts of his new wife and family, George was struggling. Despite Angelina's urging, he'd stopped eating regularly, even when Mrs Weasley had sent food parcels of his favourite meals to their home. George had also taken to staying in bed longer in the mornings, and was only working one or two hours a day at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, and even then, he'd hide himself away in the office rather than serve the customers out front.

'He needs time,' said Mr Weasley one evening. Harry had invited him and Mrs Weasley over for dinner at Grimmauld Place, and they were all seated around the kitchen table. 'He needs time, and our support, but we can't rush him.'

'I just wish he'd eat more,' said Mrs Weasley. 'He's wasting away.'

'He'll get there, Molly,' said Hermione. 'We're all doing what we can to help.'

'I know,' she replied. 'I just wish we could do more.'

There was a moment's silence in the kitchen, which ended as Mr Weasley cleared his throat.

'We'd better be going, dear,' he said, patting the table, and getting to his feet. 'I've got a long day at work tomorrow.'

'Yes, I suppose you're right,' she replied, getting to her feet as well. 'Harry, thank you for inviting us over, it was lovely to see you all.'

'Get home safe, Mum,' said Ron, giving her a hug.

They walked along the hall to the front door, and Mrs Weasley walked out into the street, followed by Ron and the girls, so they could say goodbye, but Harry hung back.

'Arthur, can I have a quick word?' he asked, quietly.

'Yes, of course, Harry,' said Mr Weasley. Harry showed him into the drawing room, followed him in, and closed the door behind them. 'So, what can I do for you?'

Harry took a breath. 'You remember the conversation we had by the lake at Hogwarts, the morning after the battle?' he asked.

Mr Weasley nodded.

'Do you remember what you said to me?'

'I seem to recall we discussed a lot of things, Harry,' Mr Weasley replied. 'Could you be a little more specific?'

'About Ginny.'

'Oh yes,' he said. There was a silent beat, as he realised what Harry meant. '_Oh!_ Yes, I _do_ remember.'

'So, the thing is, I've been thinking over these last couple of months, and – well – I think I'm ready, and – _basically_ – I just wanted to make sure that those... err... _conditions_ haven't changed.'

A very wide smile grew on Mr Weasley's face. 'Of course they haven't, dear boy. Of course they haven't.'

'Great,' said Harry, breathing a sigh of relief. 'That's very good news.'

Mr Weasley held out his hand for Harry to shake, which he accepted. 'Best of luck, Harry.'

'Thanks,' he replied, 'oh, you won't tell Molly, will you? Not until after I've asked, at least.'

'Mum's the word,' he said, tapping a finger to his nose, 'which is fairly ironic, now I think about it.'

Harry smiled, opened the drawing room door, and led the way back through the hallway, and out into the street.

'Where did you two go?' asked Mrs Weasley.

'Just a quick bit of Ministry business,' Mr Weasley replied. 'Nothing to worry about.'

'Honestly!' Mrs Weasley tutted. 'I can't take you anywhere without you talking about work.'

'Sorry dear,' he replied. 'See you at the office tomorrow, you three. Ginny, I'll see you for lunch next week.'

'Yep, bye Dad,' said Ginny. 'Bye Mum.'

Mr and Mrs Weasley took hold of each other's hands, checked that no muggles were watching, and disapparated on the spot.

x x x

'Where are you taking her?' asked Hermione. She was sitting on Harry and Ginny's bed, watching the former attempt to fix his tie.

'This little muggle restaurant I found off Covent Garden,' Harry replied.

'Do you need some help with that?'

'Yeah, I think so,' said Harry, realising the tie now had three separate knots in it. 'I used to be able to do this, back before Hogwarts.'

Hermione smiled, removed her wand, and tapped each knot with it, causing them to magically unravel. Another tap, and the tie knotted itself correctly around Harry's neck.

'Thanks,' he said. 'Right, I best be off. I'm already late, and I'm meant to be meeting Ginny there.' He started towards the door.

'Harry...' said Hermione. 'Have you forgotten something?'

'Have I? What?'

She held up a small black box between her finger and thumb. 'This, perhaps?'

Harry's mouth fell open. 'How did you know?'

'I know everything,' she said, with a grin. She threw him the box, and he caught it with one hand. Hermione smiled. 'Hope it goes well.' She got to her feet, kissed him on the cheek, and gave him a hug.

'Thanks,' said Harry, as they separated. 'And don't you and Ron get up to anything I wouldn't do while we're gone.'

'Well that doesn't rule very much out,' said Hermione, with a smirk.

Harry grinned. 'I'll see you later,' he said, and with a faint pop, disapparated.

x x x

'More wine?' Harry asked.

'Err, yeah,' said Ginny.

'Something wrong?'

'Well it's a bit, y'know, bland.'

Harry leaned in and whispered. 'This is what muggle wine is supposed to taste like.'

'Well that's rubbish,' she replied. 'It needs something to spark it up.'

'How about this?' asked Harry. He removed the little black box from his trouser-pocket, and, reaching across the table, placed it in front of her. Ginny stared down at the box for a moment, and then up at Harry.

'Is this...?' she began. Harry said nothing; instead, he slid out of his chair, and got down on one knee. 'Oh my,' she squealed, her voice full of shock and delight. 'It is!' Her eyes welled up with tears, but there was an unshakeable smile spreading across her face, that filled Harry with confidence.

'Ginny Weasley,' he began, surprised by his calmness. 'I love you, with my whole heart. Nothing could make me happier than you agreeing to be my wife. Will you marry me?'

Ginny made a small noise of delight, half way between a laugh and a sob. 'Erm...' she said, in mock-consideration. 'Well, I guess, since you let me live in your house...'

Harry grinned, and Ginny leapt out of her chair. 'Of course I will!' she blurted, flinging her arms around his neck, and hugging him tight. Then, forgetting that they were in the middle of a restaurant, and oblivious to their clapping audience at the other tables, Ginny pressed her lips to Harry's. He was suddenly immune to everything but her. Her kiss was soft and passionate; firm and loving. Nothing else mattered; nothing in the world, before the words "of course I will", had ever happened. That had all been someone else's dream.

Eventually, she broke away, and gazed into his eyes. 'I love you so much,' she said.

'Good,' said Harry, grinning. 'That's going to be a help. Do you want to try the ring on?'

'Yes,' said Ginny. The smile still hadn't left her face, but it reignited as Harry opened the box. The ring he had chosen was simple; a silver band, set with one large diamond, supported either side by two smaller peridots. 'Oh Harry, it's beautiful.' She slid it onto her finger, and held it up to the light to admire it.

'I'm glad you like it,' he replied. 'It took ages to pick, but I looked it up, and peridots are your birthstone.'

'Are they?' said Ginny, half-chuckling. 'I had no idea, but I love them.' She gave Harry another, quicker kiss, before picking up her dessert spoon, and checking her reflection. 'Oh damn,' she muttered. 'I've smudged my mascara; I'll be right back.'

'Ok,' said Harry, sitting back down in his seat, and watching her walk to the ladies.

'Congratulations, sir,' said a voice behind him. 'She's a lovely young woman.'

'Thanks,' said Harry, turning to see who it was. 'I couldn't be happi... _YOU_!'

Legion smiled, pulled back Ginny's chair, and sat down. Harry twitched, considering a grab for his wand, but Legion read his intention.

'Ah, ah, ah,' she tutted, 'don't even think about it. You've very kindly picked a muggle restaurant for this meeting, but just in case you feel like breaking the statute of secrecy, I've also got _mine_ pointed at _you_ under the table. And trust me, you're not that quick Harry.'

'What do you want, Pascalle?' Harry growled, through gritted teeth.

'Oh you know,' she replied. 'Just to say hi, quick catch up; let you know I'm still around.'

'This is what I don't understand,' said Harry. 'Why me? Why am I the one you keep coming back for?'

'I think you'll find you're the one hunting me,' said Legion, her smile fading. 'This is the fourth time we've met, but only the first time I've sought you out. Usually, I'm just trying to get on with life. A very _long_ life.'

'Then why are you here now?'

'Because you do keep getting in the way, Harry, and I wanted to prove that I can always find you when you're most vulnerable, if I have to.' Legion was scowling now; she took a breath to regain her composure. 'Besides, despite what _some_ people seem to have believed, you are not greater than me.'

'What are you talking about?' Harry spat. 'Who's believes that?'

'Perhaps you should ask dear old Dumbledore,' she replied. 'Oh wait, you can't; he's dead.'

Again Harry's hand twitched towards the pocket where his wand was concealed, but thought better of it. 'Dumbledore was ten times what you are,' he snapped.

'Apparently not,' said Legion, 'because I'm still alive. Anyway, I'll be off now before Little Miss Panda Eyes comes back. Just remember, Harry, I can find you if I have to.' She got to her feet, and turned towards the door.

'I'll find you first,' he growled.

She didn't even look back at him as she walked through the door, almost singing the words, 'No you won't.'

The door to the ladies opened, and Ginny came back out, as Harry leapt to his feet, and ran out through the door.

'Sorry about that,' she said. 'Have they come to order yet... hey, where are you going?'

Harry looked up and down the street for Legion, but the pavements were crowded with muggles, and there was no sign of her.

'What's going on?' Ginny asked, having followed him out.

'She was here,' said Harry, looking flustered.

'Who was?'

'_Legion_; she was just here.'

x x x

If the wizarding world had been a buzz over Ron and Hermione's engagement, that was nothing compared to the news that Harry Potter was off the market. So much so, and to Harry's considerable displeasure, it was even front page news in the Daily Prophet.

_THE CHOSEN ONE'S CHOICE_

_According to sources,_ The Daily Prophet_ can confirm that as of yesterday evening, the wizarding community's most eligible bachelor is engaged to be married. Harry James Potter (The Boy Who Triumped) is to marry Miss Ginevra Molly Weasley, on a date TBC._

_Mrs Molly Weasley, the bride-to-be's mother, told our reporter, "yes, obviously we're delighted that Harry's joining the family, but they'd like to keep their business private, so if you wouldn't mind leaving, I've got three chickens in the kitchen that won't stuff themselves."_

_Both Mr Potter and Miss Weasley were themselves, unavailable for comment, but _The Daily Prophet_ would like to congratulate them both, and offer our best wishes._

_For news of Mr Potter's recent dealings with the Corby Chimaera, turn to page eight..._

The chickens in question had been served for dinner at the Burrow that evening, as Mrs Weasley had insisted on throwing her daughter an engagement party. Hagrid, Andromeda and Teddy, Neville, Luna, Kingsley, Professor McGonagall, Hermione and, of course, all the Weasleys turned up to celebrate.

Mrs Weasley sat next to George at the table, and managed to get him to eat two chicken legs, some chips, and a portion of salad. This seemed to be enough to satisfy her that he'd eaten, though he didn't speak much throughout the course of the evening.

When they'd finished eating, Ron got to his feet, and Charlie tapped his glass with a spoon; everyone fell silent.

'Thank you all for coming this evening,' said Ron. 'Mum's asked me to say a few words, so first of all, I think it's worth highlighting that although Hermione and I got engaged before all the cool kids started doing it, I am, of course, delighted that Harry and Ginny have so shamefully copied us.' Everyone laughed, including Harry and Ginny. Satisfied that they were, Ron continued. 'But seriously, I hope the two of you have a long and happy life together, and considering Harry's recklessness, that really is saying something.' Everyone laughed again, and Ron raised his glass. 'To Harry and Ginny!'

'To Harry and Ginny,' the others echoed.

Ron sat down, and leaned in to Harry. 'By the way, have I asked you to be _my_ best man yet?'

'Nope,' said Harry. 'Have I asked you to be mine?'

'Nope,' Ron replied. 'I'll be yours if you be mine.'

'Done.' They grinned at each other, and shook hands.

'That was easy,' said Ron.

'Yeah, don't know what all the fuss is about,' Harry replied. Across the table, Hermione and Ginny simultaneously rolled their eyes.

'What have we let ourselves in for?' Hermione muttered.

After Mrs Weasley had served tea and coffee, everyone moved into the living room to mingle. Professor McGonagall strode over to Harry, and much to his surprise, kissed him on the cheek.

'Congratulations,' she said.

'Thanks Minerva,' said Harry. 'And thank you for coming; we weren't sure if you'd be free.'

'Oh yes,' she said, 'there are still a few weeks of summer left, so you happen to have caught me on one of my rare, quiet weeks.' She smiled, and then removed a slim, brown box from within her robes, and handed it to him. 'This is for you.'

'Oh, thanks,' said Harry, surprised. 'We really weren't expecting gifts.'

'This isn't one,' McGonagall replied. 'I've been sorting through the last of Dumbledore's things, and this was labelled as being for you.'

'Really? How come Dumbledore didn't leave it to me in his will?'

'I think the label explains.'

Harry opened the box, and inside was a narrow, glass phial, containing the silvery thread of a memory. The label on the phial bore just five words, written in tiny handwriting.

_For Harry, if considered prudent._

'I only found it last week,' McGonagall continued, 'otherwise I'd have sent it sooner. Having viewed it myself, I think you'll find "prudent" is an understatement. And even if it wasn't, I assumed you'd like to have it anyway.'

'Yes,' said Harry, stunned, 'thank you. What's in it?'

'I think I'll leave that for you to discover on your own,' she replied. 'Anyway, congratulations again.'

'Yeah, thanks.' He stared at the miraculous phial; what was it? A final message from Dumbledore? A warning about Voldemort? Advice on how to destroy horcruxes? Whatever it was, it was surely too late to be of use, but Harry's curiosity had been awakened.

Slipping the phial into his pocket, he weaved through the room to find Ginny.

'Can I talk to you?'

'Yep,' she replied. Harry led her into the empty kitchen, and pulled the phial out of his pocket.

'Minerva just gave me this,' he said, handing it to Ginny. 'It's Dumbledore's.'

Ginny held it up to her face so she could read the miniscule writing. 'Hmmm, what's it of?'

'No idea,' said Harry. 'She'd only say that "prudent" was an understatement.'

'Really?' Ginny checked over her shoulder, to make sure no-one was missing them in the living room. 'Is your pensieve at home?'

'Yeah, on the side in the drawing room. Why?'

'Let's go see what it is. We'll only be gone five minutes.'

'Are you sure?' Harry replied. 'I'm sure it can wait until after the party.'

'Dad just opened the firewhiskey; no-one'll even notice we've gone. C'mon, we'll be right back.'

Harry grinned. 'Ok, let's go.' He held his hand out to her, which she took, and they disapparated, reappearing in the drawing room at Grimmauld Place. Harry walked over to the pensieve, pulled the stopper out of the phial, and poured Dumbledore's memory into the basin. It swirled around for a moment, and then settled.

'You go first,' said Ginny. 'I'll follow you in.'

Harry nodded, and lowered his face to the silver liquid. As his nose broke the surface, he immediately felt himself falling, as the scene formed around him. When it came into focus, Harry found himself standing beside four other figures, in an incredibly familiar setting. He was inside Hagrid's hut, and the four figures were those of Hagrid, Dumbledore, Cornelius Fudge, and Lucius Malfoy.

'When was this?' said Ginny, appearing beside him.

'My second year,' said Harry. 'Ron and I were here; we're under the invisibility cloak over there. It's the night Dumbledore got suspended.'

'Calm yourself, Hagrid,' Dumbledore was saying. 'If the governors want my removal, Lucius, I shall of course step aside.'

'Why would he want me to see this?' Harry asked, as Hagrid and Fudge protested Dumbledore's decision. 'He knew I was here. He knew I saw this happen.'

'Maybe it's so you know _when_ it happens,' said Ginny. 'This must be for context.'

'...You will also find that help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who asked for it,' said Dumbledore. Harry watched, as the headmaster's piercing blue eyes flashed towards where he and Ron were hidden.

'See?' said Harry, turning to Ginny. 'He knew we were there.'

Lucius strode towards the cabin door, opened it, and bowed Dumbledore out.

'Follow them,' muttered Ginny. She darted around Hagrid and Fudge, and followed Malfoy out into the grounds.

'Would you mind if I quickly returned to my office, Lucius?' Dumbledore was saying. 'Just to pick up a few personal possessions?'

'If you must,' Lucius hissed, 'but you are to have left the grounds by midnight. After which you will be trespassing.'

'As you wish,' said Dumbledore.

Lucius turned on his heel, and set off for the main gate, as Hagrid and Fudge exited the hut.

'Dumbledore, I...' Fudge began. 'I never...'

'Do not worry about me, Cornelius,' said Dumbledore, 'your concern must now be for my students.'

'Utter load o'codswallop,' Hagrid growled. 'Wha're yer goin' ter do, Professor?'

'Don't worry, Hagrid, I'm leaving my, err, _best people_ on the case,' Dumbledore smiled to himself, and Harry's heart swelled. 'In the meantime, I need to gather information on who's responsible for the attacks.'

'You know who's responsible?' said Fudge, baffled.

'Oh yes,' said Dumbledore, 'but regrettably, I can neither prove so, nor say how they are doing it. I'm sorry Hagrid.'

'Tha's alright, Professor,' Hagrid replied. 'Reckon I can stick it out in Azkaban fer a few weeks.'

The scene swirled up again, and Ginny grabbed hold of Harry's hand. When the fog cleared, and the surroundings settled, they found themselves standing beside Dumbledore, outside what looked like a muggle pub. It was difficult to be sure, as the sign over the door was written in a language Harry couldn't read.

Dumbledore opened the door, and strode inside. The pub was one room, filled with little tables, each surrounded by chairs. There were a handful of customers inside. At one table, two men were playing backgammon, while two more sat watching. At another table, there was a figure wrapped up in a cloak; whether a man or a woman, it was impossible to tell as they were facing away from the door. At a third table sat a young man, who seemed to be trying to make one pint last as long as possible. Dumbledore weaved between the furniture, followed by Harry and Ginny, until he eventually reached the bar. The barman was stood waiting for him.

'Hello,' said Dumbledore brightly, 'do you speak English? I'm afraid my Albanian is a little rusty.'

'I speak some,' the bartender growled. His accent was thick, and now they were close up, Harry could see that his face was heavily scarred, and he seemed to have burns all the way up his arms. To Harry's surprise, he also had a wand tucked into the pocket of his trousers.

'Look,' Harry said, pointing it out to Ginny. 'I thought this was a muggle pub.'

'No look,' said Ginny, pointing to the other customers, 'they've all got wands.'

'Lovely,' said Dumbledore. 'I wonder if you can help me, I'm trying to find a certain woman; I'm afraid I don't know her name but I've been told she's blonde, French, and has recently become a regular drinker here. Do you know anyone who fits that description?'

Harry's heart leapt; surely Dumbledore didn't mean...

'Yes,' the bartender growled. 'Don't get many vomen here. It is her you are vanting.' He pointed across the bar, to the figure in the cloak.

'Ah, thank you very much,' said Dumbledore. 'And could I trouble you for a large brandy?'

The barman nodded, and Dumbledore placed three sickles on the bar, before turning and walking over to the cloaked figure.

'May I join you?' asked Dumbledore. The cloaked figure looked up, revealing her face for the first time, and Ginny gasped.

'Harry! It's her!'

It was unmistakeably Legion, and yet, it really wasn't. She was old, perhaps in her early sixties, and her blonde hair was streaked with grey. Like Tom Riddle before Voldemort, she had not become Legion yet.

'Excusé moi, monsieur?' she said. Her French accent was far more apparent than Harry had ever heard before. 'Join me?'

'Yes, if you wouldn't mind,' Dumbledore replied. This time he didn't wait for an answer, but instead pulled out a chair, and sat down.

''Ow can I be of service, monsieur?' she asked.

'Well, you could start by telling me your name,' said Dumbledore, politely. 'Mine's Albus.'

She stared at him, warily. 'Je m'appelle Pascalle,' she said, eventually.

'A pleasure,' said Dumbledore, with a small bow of the head. 'Now, I was wondering, could you perhaps – if it's not too much trouble – tell me the whereabouts of Lord Voldemort?'

Pascalle flinched slightly, but held her composure. Instead, she pulled up her sleeves, and presented her bare forearms to Dumbledore. 'I am no death eater,' she snarled.

'No, indeed,' he replied, calmly, 'but as I understand it, you're the go-to-girl for anyone seeking his location; dark mark or no dark mark.'

She frowned, and rolled her sleeves back down. 'Ze Dark Lord eez weak,' she said, 'I sought out 'is aid, but 'e eez in no condition for such things.'

Harry noticed as Dumbledore's hand twitched towards the pocket of his robes, presumably, where his wand was concealed.

'I have no interest in what favours you sought from him,' he said, calmly. 'All I need to know is his location.'

'He survives in ze Illyrian forests,' she answered, 'but you will not find 'im. What eez left of 'im is always moving; protecting itself. As I 'ave told you, 'e eez weak, and 'e dare not leave 'is sanctum without a body to possess.'

'If _you_ found him, what would stop _me_?'

'I did not find 'im. It was 'e who found me, and attempted to take hold of _my_ body; 'e failed.'

'Failed?' said Dumbledore, apparently surprised. 'It is most unlike Voldemort to fail at anything. You must have used considerable magic to warn him off.'

'You 'ave no idea,' Pascalle replied. 'Ze fool imagines 'e will return to power; 'e believes 'e eez ze only one who will triumph over death; 'e doubts zat I will surpass 'im! I shall become ze greatest sorcerer who ever lived.'

She leapt to her feet, her wand drawn, but Dumbledore was ready with his own.

'_Incruentatus!_' she cried, but Dumbledore batted it away with a flick of his wrist.

The headmaster muttered a few words under his breath, and the surrounding tables floated up into the air and started to revolve around the two duellers to create a spinning shield over their battle.

'_Percutio!_' she bellowed. Again, Dumbledore diverted the jet of red light, but this one seemed to have been trickier.

'I'm almost impressed,' he said, 'the Bleeding Curse and the Piercing Curse? You are, if nothing else, an innovator to the modern dark arts.'

'You mock me?' Pascalle spat. '_Vercundus!_'

A third flick of the Elder Wand, and her spell was defunct. 'I've never been one for mockery,' he said. 'I prefer gentle guidance. Therefore, let me offer you some; you will never be the greatest sorcerer who ever lived. I can see right now that you lack the necessary qualities. It would require far more than just raw power.'

'Who will be zen?' she snarled. The furniture was still revolving around them, and Harry could see through the gaps that the other customers were trying to see what was happening. 'You, per'aps?'

'Oh, certainly not me,' Dumbledore replied, smiling pleasantly. 'No, no; I'm ashamed to say I have too many transgressions to my name.'

'Zen who?'

Dumbledore smiled again. 'A young man, I know. Perhaps you've heard of him; Voldemort _certainly_ has.'

'Ze Potter boy? You believe eet will be 'im?'

'Certainly,' said Dumbledore, 'with a little guidance, I am confident he will be.'

'What eef I get to 'im before you administer your "guidance"?' Pascalle asked. 'What eef the Dark Lord does?'

'Voldemort may yet do, and I have plans in motion for that eventuality. You, however, are less of a concern.'

'Nonsense!' she shrieked. 'I will conquer all!'

'If that were true, you'd have beaten me by now.' Whether or not he'd done it on purpose, Harry couldn't tell, but Dumbledore's words had caused something to snap in Pascalle's head.

She raised a wand, high above her head, slashing it down towards her opponent. A streak of violet light sped from her wand, but Dumbledore pirouetted out of its way, with the agility of a much younger man. For the first time, he fired a spell back, which took all of her might to block. A streak of blue from Dumbledore's wand followed, and struck her in the shoulder.

'What was that spell?' asked Ginny.

'No idea,' said Harry, 'but look! Legion's winded.'

The witch gulped helplessly, trying to swallow empty mouthfuls of air. It was now that Dumbledore pounced. With three fluid wand motions, he caused her wand to fly from her grasp, her arms and legs to snap together in a full body bind, and finally for the circling tables to settle themselves back to their places on the floor. He walked over to the bar, and took a sip from the brandy glass that awaited him.

'Apologies for any damage,' said Dumbledore, withdrawing six galleons from his pockets, and placing them on the counter. 'I think this ought to cover it.'

The barman appeared to have been dumbstruck by what had just happened, and instead gaped at the witch, lying motionless on his floor.

'Oh, don't worry about her,' said Dumbledore, following the barman's eye line. 'I shall escort her to Nurmengard; I should imagine they'll have a place for her there. And besides...' To Harry's shock, for a brief moment, Dumbledore looked right at him. '...Nurmengard is a good place to begin again, and one should always start at the beginning.'

The scene dissolved again, and Harry felt himself travelling upwards, until he was once again standing beside Ginny in the drawing room of Grimmauld Place.

'I can't believe Dumbledore met her,' said Ginny, flabbergasted. 'And what was that Nurmengard bit about?'

'It's a clue,' said Harry, excitedly. 'He left me a clue! Come on; let's get back to the party.'

They disapparated, reappearing just outside The Burrow's kitchen door, and tried to sneak back in.

'Where've you two been?' asked Ron. He was standing by the open fridge, his mouth seemed to be half full, and he had a bunch of grapes in his hand. 'Or do I not want to know the answer to that.'

'Sorry,' said Harry. 'I'll explain later; we'll just sneak back in.'

'Actually,' Ron replied. 'I need to talk to you about something.'

'Ok,' said Harry.

'Do you need me too?' asked Ginny.

'No, go away,' said Ron.

'Oh charming,' she said, and skulked back into the living room.

'What's up?' asked Harry.

'Well,' said Ron, 'I think I have to resign from the Auror office.'

'What? Why?'

'Because of George.' Ron looked over his shoulder, to make sure his brother was out of ear shot. 'I was talking to him earlier; he's really struggling with the shop right now, and I think he needs some help. None of the others are in a position where they can do it, so I think I have too.'

Harry was silent for a moment, and then nodded. 'Have you told Raventree yet?'

'Not yet,' said Ron. 'I'll hand my notice in on Monday.'

'Have you told George?'

'Sort of. I told him I'd try and help however I could.'

Harry nodded again. 'It's gonna be weird not seeing you sat across the desk every day.'

'I know,' said Ron. 'I guess this is what it's like to be a grown up.'

'Hardly,' Harry grinned. 'You're about to start working in a joke shop!'

Ron sniggered, but it was replaced by a look of horror. 'Oh hell,' he said, burying his face in his hands, 'now I've got to tell that to Hermione...'


	18. Chapter 18: One Last Bow

**Chapter 18 – One Last Bow**

Despite his best intentions, Ron still hadn't left the Auror Office by mid-September. While his resignation had been accepted in principle, one thing stood in his way.

'What do you mean, I can't leave yet?' asked Ron.

'It's office policy,' an exasperated Raventree replied. 'Aside from your two weeks' notice, you have to complete your caseload before you leave, and you still have one open file.'

'You're joking,' said Ron. 'You mean the one with Harry?'

At these words, Harry had sunk into his chair, trying to avoid their attention. The morning after the engagement party, he had shown Ron and Hermione Dumbledore's memory of Legion. Unsurprisingly, Ron had wanted to accompany Harry to Nurmengard as a covert mission for the Order. However, Kingsley had advised that they request official access to the fortress from the Bulgarian Ministry, rather than turning up unannounced and trying to sneak in. This meant the trip had become official Auror business, and as such, a lot of red tape had gone into organising it – in addition to forcing Ron to stay.

'Can't I just hand that case over to Harry, and then escort him on the trip anyway?' Ron suggested.

Raventree raised an eyebrow at him. 'The Bulgarians are already wary about letting British Aurors into the fortress,' he said. 'Why do you think they're dragging their heels? They think we're trying to spy on them. Merlin only knows what would happen if we tried to send civilians in with you.'

'Wait,' said Harry, sitting up, 'what did you say?'

'They think we're trying to spy on them.'

'No, no; after that.'

'Merlin only knows what would happen if we tried...'

'...to send _civilians_ in with us!' said Harry. 'I've got an idea. Let's tell them that the people who want to tour the cells _are_ civilians. Let's say they're researching for a history book on Grindelwald or something like that, and I'm only going as their escort.'

Raventree considered Harry's suggestion for a moment. 'Not an awful idea, Potter, but even if they went for it, how are you going to find a group of people daft enough to pose as historians on a trip to Bulgaria?'

Harry smiled. 'I think we've finally found a job for The Dark Force Defence League.'

x x x

Incredibly, both the League and the Bulgarian government agreed to the terms of Harry's plan, and a departure date was finally arranged for the first weekend of October. Though still officially a member of the Auror Office, Ron had, in-effect, gone part-time. He now spent his mornings working at the ministry, and his afternoons at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. The upside of this was that George was improving day by day, and with Ron's new injection of enthusiasm, the two had started working on new products for the shop. The downside was that Ron would bring their inventions back to Grimmauld Place, to test on Harry.

'Here, try this,' said Ron, picking up what looked like a can of squirty cream and shaking it. 'Hold out your hand.'

Harry, slightly reluctantly, did as he was told, and immediately regretted it as Ron held down the nozzle, and squirted a spiral of semi-solid, brown gloop on to his palm.

'Now give it a second to set,' said Ron, watching intently, 'and ta-da! Fake hippogriff poo – in a can!'

'Eurgh!' said Ginny, a look of revulsion on her face. 'Why on earth did you invent that?'

'We thought it was funny,' said Ron, his ears turning a little pink. 'No?'

'No,' said Harry, firmly, cleaning his hand with a tap of his wand.

Finally, it was the morning of the trip, and the travelling party were congregated in the Auror Office.

'Is everyone here?' asked Harry, looking around at the group of several people in front of him.

'Everyone but Fuddlesworthy,' said Mr Brookstanton. 'He's just had to excuse himself; before we leave, if you see.'

Harry nodded. The office door swung open, and Ron walked in, carrying a battered old lampshade.

'Did they not have anything a bit smaller?' asked Harry, gazing at the cumbersome object as Ron put it down on his desk.

'That's what I said,' Ron replied, 'but apparently "a portkey's a portkey, and we'll have to make do".'

'How long have we got?'

'About ten minutes,' said Ron, consulting his pocket watch. 'Maybe a bit less. Why? Are we waiting for someone?'

'Mr Fuddlesworthy's had to excuse himself,' Harry replied, raising his eyebrows. Ron rolled his eyes.

They waited in silence for a couple of minutes, until it was broken by Harry's least favourite voice.

'Perhaps he's fallen in?' said Lockhart. He was sitting in Ron's chair; his feet up on the desk. 'Perhaps someone should go and check up on him.'

Despite Harry's attempts to talk them out of it, the League had insisted on bringing Lockhart along. As far as Mr Brookstanton was concerned, Gilderoy was their most experienced, and invaluable member. However, Harry could tell that Lockhart was equally reluctant to go, and was putting on a brave face for the League.

'Good idea,' Ron snapped. 'Why don't you go and do that?'

Lockhart scowled, and grumpily got to his feet. However, just before he reached the door, it swung open again, revealing a familiar face on the other side. But it wasn't Mr Fuddlesworthy...

'Minerva?' said Harry. 'I wasn't expecting to see you today.'

'I know,' McGonagall replied, walking in, 'but I thought, under the circumstances, you might appreciate an extra wand.'

She gave Harry a hug, and he smiled. 'That's very kind,' he said, 'but we've only got a set number of travel permits from the Bulgarians. I don't think we'll be able to take you.'

'I wouldn't be so sure,' said a voice from the doorway. It was Mr Fuddlesworthy, who was looking very pasty, and holding his stomach. 'I'm afraid I don't think I ought to go. My stomach's churning, and I don't think I can handle travel-by-portkey.'

'Are you sure, Kenwyn?' asked Mr Brookstanton. 'Seems a shame for you not to go.'

'Admittedly, a personal disappointment,' Mr Fuddlesworthy replied, 'but I think it's the best thing for the mission.'

'How very noble,' said Lockhart, putting his arm around Fuddlesworthy, just as he had once done to Harry. 'A true gentlemen.'

Harry rolled his eyes, and turned to McGonagall. 'It looks like we have space for you after all, Professor.'

'It would be a pleasure,' McGonagall replied.

The door opened again, and this time, Hermione came in, carrying an old metal teapot.

'Ron, the portkey office say you forgot this,' she said, 'for the return journey. Oh, hello Professor.'

'Good morning Miss Granger,' said McGonagall, smiling warmly.

'I didn't know you were going with them.'

'Just happened,' said Ron, 'Mr Fuddleworthy's ill.' He took the teapot, and dropped it into his bag.

'Oh dear, are you alright sir?' she said, turning to Mr Fuddlesworthy, who now looked rather green. 'Perhaps you'd like to come and sit in my office for a while, and I'll fetch a Ministry-healer to come and look at you.'

Mr Fuddleworthy nodded, but kept his mouth clamped shut. Hermione turned to Ron.

'Be safe,' she said, giving him a kiss. 'I know it's your last mission, but try not to do anything reckless.'

'We never _try_ to do anything reckless,' said Harry.

'Yeah, it just works out that way,' said Ron.

Hermione rolled her eyes, and turned to Professor McGonagall. 'Watch them, will you?'

'Like a hawk,' she replied.

Hermione walked over to Mr Fuddlesworthy, placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, and led him out of the office.

Ron checked his watch again. 'It's about that time,' he said, glancing at the lampshade.

Harry nodded, and turned to the group. 'Alright everyone, make sure you're touching the portkey; it's time to go.'

Everyone did as they were told, while Ron, watch in hand, counted down. 'Five... four... three... two... one... z...'

On 'zero', Harry felt the hook-like pain, pulling him forwards from somewhere behind his navel. His feet left the ground with a jerk, and he felt himself crash side-on into Lockhart. Wind seemed to be rushing past them, as the clear October skies of London darkened into the cold grey clouds of Bulgaria.

Then, with a bump, Harry felt his feet land on stone. He managed to keep his balance for a moment, until Ron fell into him, sending them both cascading to the floor. Mr Brookstanton, who had landed on his feet, offered them both a hand up.

Once upright, Harry gazed up at the dark fortress in front of them. They were right on the coast – just a few feet away the waves were crashing against the rocks, as the spray glittered their faces. The fortress itself was set into the cliff; it looked as though a sizeable area had been magically carved away in order to make room for it. Yet despite the black stonework, Harry couldn't shake the feeling that he recognised the castle, and he gasped when he realised why. He turned to Professor McGonagall.

'Don't you think it looks a lot like...'

'...Hogwarts?' she asked. 'Yes, it's meant to. Grindelwald ordered the fortress be built not long after Dumbledore began teaching. I think he hoped that a little familiarity would tempt Dumbledore to join forces with him again. It's almost moving, when you think about it.'

'But it's not a perfect replica,' said Ron, pointing to the uppermost battlements. 'The astronomy tower's missing for a start.'

'Of course not,' said McGonagall. 'Grindelwald never saw the real Hogwarts; I would imagine he only had Dumbledore's descriptions to work from.'

Harry shuddered. There was something about the place that didn't feel right. 'Come on,' he said, 'let's get moving.'

'Where do we start?' asked Lockhart. 'The fortress is huge. How can we possibly find what you're looking for?'

'Firstly,' said Harry, dismissively, 'we don't know what we're looking for, and secondly, we're supposed to meet one of the Bulgarian Ministry's guides in the entrance hall.'

'This way,' said McGonagall, striding off towards the main doors. The others followed, and when they reached the top step, Harry banged his fist on the door. It creaked open, apparently of its own accord.

'Ok,' said Ron, 'at least that wasn't creepy.'

They stepped inside, and burning torches ignited themselves around the walls. The entrance hall was undoubtedly familiar, and yet, as different from the one at Hogwarts as it was possible to be. What would've been the marble staircase was in the correct place, but it had been carved from cold, grey stone. It also appeared that the enchantment which made the Hogwarts stairways move, was absent from these. The walls were void of the familiar moving portraits; instead, they were covered with grime, as though the fortress had gone uncared for since its construction.

'Velcome!' declared a voice, with a strong Bulgarian accent. Harry spun around to see where it was coming from, and his eyes fell upon a bald little wizard standing at the top of the first flight of stairs. The man shuffled forwards and down the steps towards the gathered group. 'Velcome!' he repeated. 'I am Valeri Bandalovski, and on behalf ov the Bulgarian Ministry ov Magic, velcome to Nurmengard.'

Upon closer inspection, Harry could see that Bandalovski had bulging, beetle-black eyes, which gave him a permanently alarmed expression. He had the look of a man who'd seen too many horrors in his life, and his face was liberally decorated with wrinkles.

'I take it you're our guide,' said Harry.

'Yes, yes,' Bandalovski replied, bowing low. 'Von assumes you are Mr Potter.'

As Bandalovski returned to an upright position, Harry clocked his beetle-black eyes flicker towards the scar on his forehead, but chose to ignore it.

'I am,' he said. 'This is my colleague, Mr Weasley, and these are the members of the Wizarding Historical Society of Great Britain.'

It had taken a matter of minutes for Harry and Ron to invent a cover story for the League's members, but even as he said it, Harry wished they'd thought of a more imaginative group name.

'Excellent,' said Bandalovski, bowing low to the others. 'Vhere vould you like to begin?'

'Perhaps,' said Mr Brookstanton, playing his part, 'could we see the former cell of Pascalle Chevalier?'

Bandalovski looked confused. 'Madame Chevalier?' he asked. 'Not Grindelvald?'

Ron jumped in. 'Obviously we'd like to view Grindelwald's cell too,' he said, 'though we'd like to save that until last, if you don't mind?'

'Ov course,' said Bandalovski, though he still seemed baffled. 'Please, if you vill all follow me.'

Bandalovski led them up the stairs to the third floor corridor. At Hogwarts, there were a few doorways on each floor, leading into the classrooms, but in this fortress, the doors were every few feet, each leading to a different cell. Eventually, the guide stopped in front of what would've been the door to the Charms classroom.

'This was the cell ov Madame Chevalier,' Bandalovski informed them, 'although it is not very spacious. You vill not all fit at vonce.'

'We'll take turns,' said Harry. 'First few come in with Ron and me.'

Bandalovski withdrew his gnarled, knotted wand from his robes, and tapped the cell-door lock. It clicked open. Harry pushed on the door, and went inside. The small, square room was bare, except for an old, rusted-metal, cot frame – the mattress long since removed. Harry gazed around, hoping to see something that would provide him with a clue about Legion, but there was nothing. The room must've been stripped after her release.

Ron, Brookstanton and Lockhart had followed Harry in.

'Proper little home from home, isn't it?' said Ron, sarcastically. 'All the luxuries of your modern dungeon.'

'I doubt Grindelwald intended for it to be comfortable,' Lockhart sneered.

'Shut up, Gilderoy,' Ron retorted. Lockhart looked affronted, but decided not to raise an argument.

'What are we looking for, Harry?' asked Mr Brookstanton.

'Anything,' he replied. 'Anything that gives us a clue about how to beat her.'

'I doubt you'll find anything,' said McGonagall, walking into the cell. 'The rooms used to be stripped by the guards after each prisoner left. Often, they were even purged with magic.'

'Why?' asked Ron.

'If the prisoner had err... made a mess,' she replied.

Harry snorted, and turned to Ron. 'There's nothing here,' he said. 'I'm going to talk to the guide.'

'I'll take a closer look,' said Ron, drawing his wand. '_Lumos_.'

Harry left the cell, followed by McGonagall, and waived the next couple of League members inside.

'Mr Bandalovski,' Harry said, 'what can you tell me about Chevalier when she was here?'

'Only vot little I know,' he replied.

'Start at the beginning,' said Harry, 'when and why was she brought here?'

'She voz brought here by Professor Albus Dumbledore,' said Bandalovski, 'and I believe it voz sometime during 1993.'

'In May,' said McGonagall. Harry raised an eyebrow at her. 'While Professor Dumbledore was suspended,' she added.

'Quite right,' said Bandalovski. 'She was charged with attempted murder, for the duel she started vith Dumbledore.'

'Hang on,' said Harry. 'If she was charged with attempted murder, why was she released?'

'She vasn't,' Bandalovski replied. 'She escaped. She snatched one of her guards vands, and fought her vay out. Ve've also not seen the guard since.'

'I can guess what happened to him,' Harry muttered. 'Her first victim.'

'What was she like before she escaped?' McGonagall asked.

'Quiet, I am told,' said Bandalovski, 'kept to herself, except for vhen she helped serve at meal times.'

'She helped serve the meals?' asked Harry, surprised.

'Yes,' said Bandalovski, 'all ov the prisoners had jobs; vell, except for Grindelvald, of course. But vhy are you so interested in Madame Chevalier?'

'Oh, it's all research,' said Harry. 'Tell me, would she have ever met Grindelwald?'

'Certainly, she used to take him his meals.'

'How often?'

'Everyday from ven she arrived up until his death.'

'Would they have had time to speak?' asked McGonagall.

'Certainly,' Bandalovski replied. 'I suppose von could say they became friends. Or at least the closest thing von could manage here.'

Harry nodded, thoughtfully. Could Grindelwald have taught Legion the absorption spell she'd used to gain her powers? Just as this idea started to form, Harry's thought process was interrupted by a shout from the cell.

'Hey, look at this!' called Lockhart's voice.

Harry dashed back into the cell, to where Lockhart was crouched by the wall. He'd moved the metal cot frame, and was pointing at a scratch mark near the floor. 'Harry, look at this,' he repeated. Harry bent down to look. It was just a straight mark on the wall, presumably from where the bed frame had scraped along the stonework.

'Well done Gilderoy,' said Harry, dismissively, 'you've found a scratch.'

Lockhart frowned. 'Look closer,' he instructed.

Harry did as he was told, and got down on his hands and knees. Lockhart got to his feet, to move out of Harry's way. When he was just a few inches from the wall, Harry saw what Lockhart had seen. One, tiny word, had been etched into the wall.

_Exedo._

'What have you found?' asked McGonagall.

'There's a word written here,' said Harry, 'etched into the wall.'

'What?' said McGonagall, sounding aghast.

'One word, carved into the wall,' Harry repeated.

'What does it say?' she asked. But before Harry could answer, Lockhart interrupted.

'Hey, what are you doing?' he cried. Harry spun around just in time to see McGonagall with her wand drawn – the tip pointed at Harry – as Lockhart dived between them.

'_Sectumsempra!_' McGonagall bellowed.

The curse, intended for Harry, instead struck Lockhart. Blood spurted from his neck and chest, as though two deep sword strokes had cut through him. He fell to the floor, and slumped back against the cell wall.

McGonagall was preparing to attack again, but this time, Harry, Ron and Brookstanton were ready for her; all three of their wands raised.

'WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?' Harry bellowed.

'Would you believe me if I said he was annoying me?' McGonagall replied, with an all too familiar cackle.

At that moment, another two figures burst into the room. One was Hermione, and the other, was a second Professor McGonagall.

'Harry! Get away from her!' Hermione cried. She, and the new McGonagall, also had their wands pointed at the original. 'She's not the real McGonagall; it's her!'

The first McGonagall cackled, and consulted her pocket watch. 'Perfect timing,' she said, as her dark, greying hair, started to develop blonde streaks. 'I was starting to worry that you wouldn't get here in time.' Another few seconds passed, as Harry, horrified by what was happening, watched the first McGonagall transform back into the devilish, triumph-filled face of Legion.

'Ahhh,' she said, feeling her own face with her hands. 'Where would we be without Polyjuice Potion?' She cackled again.

'I'm sorry Harry,' said the real McGonagall, 'I had no idea she was pretending to be me.'

'I've been pretending to be you for months!' snapped Legion, turning to look at McGonagall. 'Ever since I broke into your office, and stole a few hairs from your brush. Coming across Dumbledore's memory of our meeting was just a bonus.'

'You?' spat Harry. 'You gave me the memory?'

'Certainly,' she replied. 'It was such a perfect trap. It's just a shame you brought this idiot with you.' She kicked at Lockhart – he was still breathing, but he looked weak, and blood was soaking through the front of his robes.

'The memory was real then?' said Ron. 'Really Dumbledore's?'

'Oh yes,' said Legion. 'I couldn't have faked that – you'd have spotted it immediately. The only thing I had to fake was being her.' Legion nodded at McGonagall.

'The real Professor turned up at my office a few minutes after you left,' said Hermione. 'We'd have been here sooner, but the portkey office was reluctant to send two trips to Bulgaria in one day.'

'Why?' said Harry. 'Why set the trap at all? Usually you want me out of your way.'

'Well yes,' said Legion, 'but I had to prove my point.'

'What point?'

'Like I said in the restaurant Harry; I can get to you anytime, anywhere, anyway. Even as your dear old Professor, at your very own engagement party.'

Harry was fuming. He was worried about Lockhart, but he couldn't take his eyes off Legion, for fear of what she'd do. 'Well it hasn't worked, has it Pascalle? Your own trap has backfired. Now we've got you surrounded.'

'Really?' Legion replied. 'That's what you think is it? Because the way I see it, you've got one of your team bleeding to death and you're four floors away from an apparition point. Meanwhile, I'm the only one who can do this...' She grinned, and disapparated.

'DAMN IT,' Harry snapped, lowering his wand. He turned on the spot, and crouched down to Lockhart. 'Help me!' he begged Hermione.

Hermione dashed forward, and helped Harry tear open the front of Lockhart's scarlet-stained, teal robes. The slashes were deep, and he'd already lost a lot of blood. Hermione pointed her wand at the cuts, muttering incantations under her breath, but Harry could already tell it was too late. He wasn't the only one.

'Leave it,' Lockhart gulped, trying to swallow mouthfuls of air. 'It won't help. Not now.'

Harry nodded. 'I'm sorry,' he said, 'I should've seen that coming.'

'Not your fault,' said Lockhart. 'You can't control everything.'

Harry nodded again, and realised something. 'You saved me! Thank you.'

Lockhart smiled awkwardly. 'Does this mean I'm one of your brave old teachers now?' he whispered.

Harry smiled, kindly. 'I guess so, sir,' he replied.

Lockhart smiled again, this time to himself. 'Harry, Harry, Harry,' he muttered. 'This would've made a _great_ book.'

Harry chuckled, half a tear blurring his vision, as Lockhart's eyes lost focus altogether. He was gone.

x x x

'So as best we can tell,' said Harry, 'she'd poisoned Fuddlesworthy so she could steal his place on the trip. I should've thought it strange that McGonagall had turned up out of the blue.'

'You can't blame yourself, Harry,' said Kingsley. 'Legion is getting very good at her games, and she's starting to learn what you'll believe and who you'll trust.'

They were sitting by the fire in Kingsley's office. The Minister had poured Harry a large glass of firewhiskey, in a bid to calm his anger.

'Well I'll be more careful from now on,' Harry replied. 'Constant vigilance.'

Kingsley frowned. 'Do yourself a favour Harry,' he said, putting his own glass down. 'Don't turn into Mad-eye. Alastor was a great Auror, but he could never enjoy himself; always too busy expecting danger round every corner. You're still young; you don't need the weight of the world on your shoulders.'

Harry drained his glass, and put it down on the table beside Kingsley's. 'And I don't want it either,' he said, getting to his feet, 'but it doesn't seem to help.'

Kingsley half-smiled. 'I'm always here when you need me.'

'Thank you Minister.'

'It's the end of the day Harry; we're having a drink – you can call me Kingsley.'

'If you say so Minister; I'll see you Monday.'

x x x

'So how does it feel to have left the Aurors?' asked Ginny.

'Would've been better had the last mission been less... y'know...' said Ron.

'Disastrous?' Harry suggested.

'Yeah.'

It was just after midnight, and the four of them were sat around the kitchen table in Grimmauld Place.

'I'm just glad you've got a safer job now,' said Hermione.

'Safer?' said Ginny. 'He's working in a shop with George where half the products explode.'

Hermione was silent for a few moments. 'Have you considered staying with the Aurors?' she said. Everyone laughed.

'I kinda still am,' said Ron.

'What do you mean?' said Ginny.

'You never really leave; you're just moved to the reserve list. If there's a big enough emergency, I'll get called in.'

Anyway, we should go to bed,' said Hermione, 'we've got to go house-hunting tomorrow.'

'Yeah,' said Ron, dragging himself to his feet. He waved at Harry & Ginny. 'See you guys in the morning.'

'Yeah, g'night,' Ginny replied. She waited until they'd gone, before she turned to Harry. He was sitting, staring blankly out the kitchen window. 'You ok?'

'Hmmm?' said Harry.

'Are you ok?'

'Yeah,' he replied. 'Yeah, just, y'know.'

'Lockhart?'

'Yeah. It never gets easier; losing people.'

Ginny got up, and leaned over Harry to wrap her arms around his shoulders. 'I know,' she said. 'But as long as you come home to me at the end of the day, _you've_ done what you're supposed to.'

'Thanks,' he said, kissing her cheek. He stared back out the window again. 'I just wonder what Legion's doing tonight...'

x x x

Legion removed her cloak, and through it over the back of her vacant chair. She sat down, quite calmly, as she watched the nervous-looking man prowl along the grubby parlour wall, scrutinizing her carefully.

'Well?' she said. 'Aren't you going to sit down?'

'Err... yes,' he hesitated. 'Yes, of course.' He shuffled away from the wall, using his fingertips to scrape his long blonde locks back from his eyes as he went, and sat down opposite her in the other wingback.

'My Lucius,' said Legion, glancing around. 'How the Malfoys have fallen. I assume you know why I'm here.'

He shook his head.

'I am here,' she continued, 'to ask for your help.'

'My help?' asked Lucius. For the first time in months, a confident smile started to spread across his lips. 'What could _you_ possibly need from _me_?'

'Your assistance, in recruiting some help,' she said. Lucius's smile faded as quickly as it had arrived.

'What do you mean?' he asked.

'You and your Death Eater pals,' said Legion, calmly. 'Potter is starting to become a problem, but I'd rather not invest my valuable time in dealing with him.'

Lucius got to his feet. 'I'm sorry,' he said, 'but I can't help you.'

'Can't, or won't?' Legion sneered.

He thought for a moment. 'Both. The Ministry are watching me.'

'I understand,' she replied. 'All I ask is that you tell me where I can find a few of your friends.'

'Why would I even want to help you?' Lucius asked. 'I heard what you did to Yaxley.'

'Oh Lucius,' said Legion, her voice loaded with disappointment. 'I heard you used to be such a fan of the Cruciatus curse.'

'Not like that,' he shivered. 'Never like _that_.'

'Look,' she said, 'I hate to put it like this, but if you don't tell me what I need to know, I'll be forced to kill you, and then your family. And then you again, just for good measure.'

Lucius gulped. 'There... there aren't any of us left,' he said. 'The Ministry rounded them all up. Potter rounded them all up. There's only one place you'd find the sort of help you're looking for now.'

'Where?'

'You'll never find it; it would take exceptional magic to do so.'

'I have no interest in _unexceptional_ magic,' said Legion, coldly.

'No, you don't understand,' said Lucius. 'It would've taken even the Dark Lord months to find; years maybe.'

'Why? Find what?'

'It moves around now,' Lucius gulped again. 'They've got it to keep changing location, ever since they cast out the dementors...'

'Ahh,' said Legion, a broad, dark smile spreading across her face. 'Azkaban.'


	19. Chapter 19: Mr & Mrs Weasley

**Chapter 19 – Mr & Mrs Weasley**

The news of Lockhart's death was widely reported in the weeks that followed, and – as was typical of stories involving Gilderoy – the facts were heavily distorted. The Daily Prophet had reported that Lockhart had died, "_saving Harry Potter from a werewolf attack, while the pair were on a covert mission together, resulting in several deep slashes to the author's chest and neck_."

While this was mostly untrue, Harry hadn't objected to it. It saved unnecessary public panic, which would've been brought about by the truth of Legion's trap, while also giving Lockhart the heroic end that Harry felt he had earned.

Hermione, however, had been highly annoyed. The reports of a werewolf having killed one of the country's most famous wizards had set her work back by months.

'The _bloody_ Prophet!' she had spat, slamming the scrawled-up paper down on Harry's desk. 'Have you seen these lies, Harry?!'

'I know,' he'd replied, 'but...'

'There are no buts,' she snapped. 'I've been trying to get my department to take werewolf equality seriously for nearly a year now, and then this hogwash undermines public trust and knocks me back to square one.'

'Yes, but...'

'And_ now_ I've got to deal with Horton and Pepperidge demanding a meeting with Rosalyn and me this afternoon.'

'Ah,' said Harry, realising why she was angry. 'You're supposed to be off this afternoon, aren't you?'

'I _was_,' Hermione grumbled. 'I was supposed to help Ron unpack, but no – I'd much rather hear Edgar Pepperidge re-tell my boss about how the country _"isn't ready for my wild ideas..."_'

Hermione and Ron had finally found a house, just on the edge of London, which was perfect for them. It was on the outskirts of a little village, far from the prying eyes of other residents, and neatly surrounded by trees so tall you could fly a broomstick around the garden without people seeing. However, with Hermione busy at work, Ron busy at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, and both of them busy prepping for their impending wedding, they'd been struggling to find time to move in properly.

The wedding itself had been set for Christmas Day at the Burrow, partially at Mrs Weasley's suggestion.

'It'd be lovely to have it on Christmas Day,' she'd said. 'Think of the snow, the lights, and the festive colours... plus, if we're having everyone over anyway, why not do it then? And Charlie's back at Christmas; he can't always get time off during the rest of the year...'

Hermione had agreed with Ron, that it was largely sensible to oblige Mrs Weasley's wishes, since she'd be preparing the food.

When December had arrived, and Ron and Hermione still hadn't managed to unpack all their belongings, Harry and Ginny offered to go over and help.

'It's the least we can do,' Ginny told Hermione. 'I'm only at training in the mornings, and Harry's not too busy at work just now – and besides, since you helped Harry with my engagement ring, I feel like we owe you one.'

Hermione chuckled to herself, but Harry looked affronted.

'How did you know she helped me?' he asked.

'Awww, baby,' said Ginny, with a smile, 'I love you, but there was no way you knew what a birthstone was, and I know who you go to for help.'

As if all these events weren't hectic enough, Hermione had also asked Mrs Weasley for cooking lessons, though they had not been going well. As was typical of something Hermione struggled with, Ron and Harry considered it both highly amusing, and very good for her. Six disastrous lessons had left Hermione with singed hair and a handful of minor burns. Not to mention the broken kitchen table at Grimmauld Place, which had collapsed under the weight of a rock-hard, blackened lump, meant to be a small loaf of bread.

At the end of her seventh lesson at the Burrow, the others were sitting in the living room when Hermione left the kitchen, and flopped down on the sofa beside Ron. She was covered in flour and sweat, and the oven's heat had rendered her hair even bushier than usual.

'Nope, that's it,' she said, with a tone of self-frustration. 'Clearly, I can't do it – Ron, you'll just have to be in charge of cooking. You're better at it than me anyway.'

'I'm what?' Ron teased, feigning deafness. 'I didn't catch that last bit...'

'Oh, shut up,' she sighed.

'What were you making?' asked Ginny.

'I was trying to roast a chicken,' Hermione replied.

'Then why are you covered in flour?'

'Exactly!' Hermione exclaimed. 'It got away from me a bit...'

'Not to worry,' said Ron, wiping flour off her cheek so he could kiss it, 'you can make sure our future children are bright; I'll make sure they're alive long enough to show it.'

His joke had earned him an elbow to the ribs.

Harry had always enjoyed Christmas Eve at the Burrow; He'd also enjoyed the weddings he'd attended there. Yet when Mrs Weasley combined the two, it was really quite spectacular.

He and Ginny arrived in the kitchen just before lunch to find the kitchen table completely covered in vegetables for the wedding breakfast; Hermione sat chopping carrots at one end, while Angelina and Fleur peeled potatoes at the other. Around them, Mrs Weasley bustled back and forth, preparing an enormous stack of bacon sandwiches for their actual lunch.

'Hi Mum,' said Ginny, kissing Mrs Weasley on the cheek.

'Ah you're here,' said Mrs Weasley. 'Ginny help Hermione chop would you – we've lost _eighteen_ carrots already. Harry, you'll find the boys out in the garden putting up the marquee; usual drill.'

'I'm on it,' said Harry, buttoning up his cloak and turning back towards the kitchen door.

'Oh wait,' said Mrs Weasley, 'take these with you; the boys are waiting for them.' She handed Harry a plate that had been piled precariously high with bacon sandwiches. He did his best to keep them balanced as he headed out to the garden.

Despite the time of year – and chilly though it was – it wasn't really cold enough to snow as Mrs Weasley had forecast. Harry was, therefore, quite astonished when he reached the garden and discovered the grass was covered in nearly three inches of it.

'What do you think?' asked George, cheerfully, as he saw Harry approach. 'Brand new product in the shop; _Instant Snow Balls_ – Ron's idea – you just smash one on the ground and the next thing you know, you've got your very own blizzard! Ooh, bacon...'

He helped himself to a sandwich from the top of the pile, took the plate from Harry and led the way up the garden to where Bill, Charlie, Ron, and Mr Weasley were levitating the marquee with their wands.

'This is amazing,' said Harry, bending down to feel a handful of the snow. It felt just like the real thing; soft and delicate, yet, bizarrely, not cold.

'Thanks,' said Ron, 'it's been proving a real money spinner this week; mostly from people who want to ensure a white Christmas, but I thought it would help decorate the wedding. It goes away after a couple of days – unless you speed it up with a thawing charm of course – but now you can have snowball fights without your fingers going numb!'

'It's amazing,' Harry repeated. Ron's ears turned a little red, but he smiled happily.

Half an hour, several bacon sandwiches, and three swearwords later, the marquee was up. Mr Weasley took the sandwich-plate back inside, while his sons and Harry started setting out chairs.

'So, now Dad's gone,' said Charlie, 'what time's the stag party, Harry? How much time do we have to set up Hermione's surprise?'

Harry grinned. 'We start at the Leaky Cauldron at eight o'clock,' he replied. 'What time are the girls going out?'

'Fleur told me they'd booked a table somewhere for seven,' said Bill. 'And they're all staying at Grimmauld Place tonight, aren't they?'

'Yeah, that's what Ginny told me,' said Harry. 'So we've got some time after they leave...'

'I've got to say little brother;' said George, patting Ron on the back, 'as far as romantic gestures go, this one is pretty good.'

'Only if it works,' said Ron. 'I just hope we can get everything here in time.'

'Don't worry,' said Harry, 'your best man's got it under control – it'll be great, and the girls have got no idea.'

x x x

By nine thirty, the Leaky Cauldron was very noisy. Harry, Charlie and Dean were discussing Quidditch; Neville was losing hand after hand of Exploding Snap to George; Percy, Bill, and Mr Weasley were shuttling back and forth from the bar with increasingly large tankards of oak-matured mead, and Ron and Seamus were stood on a table, beside Hagrid, loudly singing a song together, about an old wizard who'd married a young witch.

_Oh Alfred, he was nearly dead_

_when he met Jane and her, he wed_

_with his wand, her clothes he shed_

_and took her to their marriage bed._

_But she thought him far too old_

_not young enough for her to hold_

_and if the truth were really told_

_she only wanted all his gold!_

'Wait,' said Harry, looking up from his conversation. 'That's not a very good song to sing the night before your wedding.'

'Nonsense Harry,' Ron said, with a slight, drunken hiccough. 'I know 'Mione won't leave me like Jane left Alfred. Do you know why?'

'Why?' said Neville.

'Because I don't have any gold!" Ron roared. 'MORE MEAD!'

x x x

It required several, quite powerful, sobering charms to get Ron up the following morning. Eventually, he rolled out of bed, and agreed to take a shower. Harry thought to himself how wise it was that they'd set up Ron's surprise for Hermione the night before, prior to all the drinking. He suspected Ron would've been less enthusiastic about it in the cold light of day.

When he eventually emerged from the bathroom, however, Ron seemed far more awake than Harry had expected.

'Morning-Harry-merry-christmas-i-feel-great,' he blurted. Harry raised an eyebrow.

'Are you feeling alright?' he asked, as Ron attempted to put his trousers on in world record time.

'Course-I'm-alright-it's-my-wedding-day-and-christ mas-all-at-once-isn't-that-great-Harry? Now-where-are-my-good-socks?'

Harry fought back a smirk, as Ron dropped to his hands and knees to investigate under his bed.

'Why are you talking so fast?'

'Talking-fast? I'm-not-talking-fast-you're-talking-slow!' Ron garbled. 'I-feel-great-that-last-charm-really-did-the-trick ...'

'Wait,' said Harry, starting to understand. 'Did you put _another_ sobering charm on yourself in the bathroom?'

'Yeah-just-two-or-three,' Ron replied, attempting to tie a tie around his neck, despite still being bare-chested. 'Really-gets-you-up-in-the-morning.'

'Ok,' said Harry, 'I think you might've over done it. I'll go and get your Dad; you stay here, and... erm... keep putting _all_ your clothes on.' Ron was now wearing a bobble-hat and gloves, but still no shirt.

Eventually, Mr Weasley had got him levelled out, and Ron had successfully dressed himself in his wedding robes. He joined Harry, his father, and his brothers around the kitchen table, and helped himself to a large bowl of porridge.

'Morning,' he said, slightly gruffly.

'Not so loud,' moaned George, placing a hand over the side of his head. 'Even with one ear, my hangover can't take the noise.'

'Sorry,' he whispered. 'Whose idea was it to have the stag party the night before the wedding?'

'Ahhh son,' said Mr Weasley, wisely, patting Ron on the shoulder. 'That's a question all men must ask themselves on their wedding morning.'

'You'd think,' said Percy, nodding to himself, 'that we'd pass that on from groom to groom...'

'...but no,' Bill agreed. 'Every man must learn the hard way.'

'Pretend you haven't heard this Harry,' said George. 'Since it'll be your turn next.'

Harry grinned. He was about to make a retort, when Charlie sat up in his chair to gaze out the kitchen door and down the garden path.

'Oh, hello,' he said, 'here comes trouble.'

Instinctively, Harry drew his wand and leapt to his feet, only to see that the trouble in question was actually Ginny.

She was wearing an azure blue bridesmaid's dress that made her tied-back, red hair, look vibrant. She was wearing fluffy, red slippers, but carried a pair of gold-coloured high-heels in her hand, and she'd wrapped a large blanket around herself.

'Morning,' she said brightly, as she walked through the door.

'Shhhhhhh,' George insisted, covering his good-ear again.

'Oh dear, heavy night was it?' she said, looking around at her brothers. 'Is it going to be like this the morning of _our_ wedding, Harry?'

He grinned, returned his wand to his pocket, and sat back down. 'Wouldn't dream of it.'

She leaned down to give him a kiss, and smiled. 'Merry Christmas.'

'Merry Christmas,' he replied.

'Thanks,' she said, standing up straight. 'Now, all of you get out – Hermione and the others are arriving any minute, and you can't see the bride before the wedding.'

'You're throwing us – your _dear_ brothers – out into the snow on Christmas day?' asked George, feigning indignation.

'It's _your_ snow!' Ginny replied. 'It's not even cold, but here...' She took off her blanket and threw it at him. 'Take this if it makes you feel better. Now, OUT!'

From the top of garden, Harry could just about see the other girls and Mrs Weasley arrive, though they managed to keep Hermione hidden very well. He didn't have long to dwell on that though, as before he knew it, the purple carpet was unravelled, and the guests were arriving.

Even though, as the Best Man, it wasn't his job to direct people to their seats, Harry decided to show Hagrid to his magical-reinforced chair personally. It seemed strange to Harry that Hagrid didn't have a larger role in the wedding, especially considering how often he'd been involved in his, Ron and Hermione's lives, and he made a mental note to find something important at his own wedding for Hagrid to do.

'That ok for you Hagrid?' Harry asked.

'Aye, should be a good'un, eh?' Hagrid replied, beaming around at everyone. He was, of course, wearing his hideous, hairy suit. Though there was one small change.

'Is that a new tie, Hagrid?' Harry was surprised by how tasteful the simple Gryffindor-red garment was.

'Oh, yeh noticed, did yeh?' Hagrid beamed. 'Chris'mas present from Professor McGonagall. Bit plain fer me, but nice enough.'

'Suits you,' said Harry, grinning. 'Anyway, I'll talk to you in a bit; I need to check Ron's not trying to do a runner.'

Harry wandered back out of the marquee, and up the garden. He found George, who was in the process of showing Neville and Hannah Abbott to their seats.

'Morning Neville, morning Hannah; Happy Christmas,' said Harry, turning to George. 'You seen Ron?'

'Yeah, he's having a man-to-man with Hermione's dad,' George replied. 'Speaking of which, the bride wants to see you.'

'Oh right, where?'

'Ginny's room, I think.'

Harry walked back into the house, and climbed the flight of stairs that led to his fiancée's old room. He knocked twice on the door.

'Come in,' said Ginny's voice.

Harry pushed the door open, and was amazed by the sight that greeted his eyes. Hermione was standing in the middle of the room, in a white, floor-length gown, with an azure lace-sash tied around her waist that matched Ginny's dress. Her hair was tied back in a loose, but uncharacteristically sleek, plait. Ginny was stood on the bed, her wand out, using it to weave tiny blue flowers into the bride's hair.

'Hermione, you look incredible,' said Harry. 'I mean, I'm still marrying Ginny, but seriously, not bad...'

Hermione blushed and smiled, and though Ginny grinned as well, she also took one of her slippers off and flung it at him.

'Thanks Harry,' Hermione replied.

'Did you want me?' he asked.

'Yeah, is everyone here yet?' she asked.

'More or less,' said Harry.

'Ron still here?'

Harry laughed. 'Yeah, he's talking to your Dad.'

'Oh God,' Hermione sighed. 'That'll be Dad's, "don't hurt my daughter speech". I don't know what he thinks he'd even do against a wizard!'

'Give him a dodgy filling?' Harry suggested.

Hermione let out a small, nervous giggle. 'Gin, can you give us a minute?' she said.

'Yeah, no problem,' Ginny replied, jumping off the bed. 'I'll be downstairs when you're done.'

She bent down to pick up her slipper as she went, and used it to make another, playful swipe at Harry on the way out.

Once the door had closed, Hermione sat down on the bed, held her head in her hands, and let out a long sigh.

'You ok?' asked Harry.

'Pretty nervous,' Hermione replied, without looking up. 'Might be sick.'

'I can tell; I haven't seen you like this since our O.W.L. results arrived.'

'Had to hold it in all morning,' she said, breathing deeply. 'All the girls were in full-on wedding mode, and I had to play the part of the excited bride.'

'Are you not?'

'Don't be daft, of course I am. I just also happen to be terrified.'

'If it helps,' said Harry, sitting down on the bed beside her, 'Ron accidentally over-dosed himself with sobering charms this morning. I was starting to think the whole ceremony would be over in about three minutes he was talking so fast.'

Hermione looked up, and laughed weakly. 'That helps a little bit,' she said.

'Then how can I help more?'

'Ask everyone not to look at me when I walk into the marquee?'

'What?' said Harry, trying not to laugh. 'Since when have you been shy?'

'Seriously, what if I trip or something. Everyone'll be watching.'

'You're not going to trip, you'll be fine. Trust me; all these worries will disappear the moment you set foot in that tent. You'll see Ron there waiting for you; you'll see the incredible surprise decorations he's got for you, and nothing else will matt...'

'The surprise what?!' she exclaimed, jumping up in a panic. 'Have we _not_ got the decorations we wanted? Did they cancel? What can I do?'

'Calm down,' said Harry, getting to his feet as well, 'don't worry. Trust me. It was Ron's idea to change it, and you'll love it. I can't think of anything more appropriate.'

Hermione eyed him suspiciously. 'Are you sure?'

'Absolutely.'

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. 'Ok, thanks,' she said. She didn't seem fully convinced. They stared at each other for a moment, before Harry grinned.

'Do you remember the first time you met Ron?' he asked.

'Yeah,' she said, a smile breaking across her face. 'He had dirt on his nose.'

'And you reeled off every book you'd read that summer. A match made in heaven.'

She laughed, louder this time. 'Thanks Harry,' she said, now with a full grin.

'No problem,' he said, grinning back. They hugged for a moment, before breaking apart, and smiling at each other again.

'Hey, did you ever think,' said Harry, 'back then, when we met, that maybe it'd be us getting married one day?'

Hermione stared at him for a moment, seemingly considering the question. Then, at the exact same time, they both burst out laughing.

'Oh Harry,' she said after a minute, picking up a tissue to dab the tears of laughter from her eyes. 'You are daft. Thank Merlin Ginny loves you.'

'I do every day,' he replied, grinning again. 'Now, let's go and get you married.'

x x x

Harry was stood beside Ron at the top of the marquee. The little wizard with the tufty hair was beside them, ready to preside over the ceremony, just as he had at the other Weasley weddings.

The congregation was filled with Ron and Hermione's friends and family. Mr & Mrs Weasley and Mr & Mrs Granger were sitting on the front row, but the most apparent guests were Hagrid, towering over everyone else even while seated, and Aunt Muriel, who was complaining loudly that the ceremony was late starting.

'Are you ready, Mr Weasley?' the tufty-haired wizard whispered to Ron.

'For a few years now,' said Ron, confidently. The tufty-haired wizard nodded, and string music started to play from no-where.

The flaps, at the other end of the marquee pulled themselves open like curtains on a theatre stage, and there was Hermione, stunning in her dress, followed by Ginny, who winked at Harry. Hermione took a few steps up the aisle, and gasped, as Ron's surprise became clear.

Around the sides of the tent, standing guard over the congregation, were ten vast bookcases – one for each year that Ron and Hermione had known each other – each one of them filled with all the books she'd ever told him to read, mentioned, or browsed through. Ron had assembled Hermione her very own library, made up of everything from romantic muggle novels to dusty old spell books – the perfect union of two different worlds.

Hermione, seemingly overwhelmed, required a little nudge from Ginny to start walking again, but as she did so, like Harry had predicted, her eyes fixed on Ron, and a beaming smile spread across her face.

When she reached the front, she took his hand, and whispered, 'I love it.'

'I love you,' he replied.

'Ladies and Gentlemen,' said the now familiar, sing-song voice of the tufty-haired wizard, 'we are gathered here today to celebrate the union of two faithful souls. Ron and Hermione have expressed their love to one another, and have come here today so that you, their friends and family, may bear witness to their marriage.'

'Not changed his script much, has he?' said Aunt Muriel, in a highly audible whisper.

'Shush Muriel,' Mr Weasley growled. 'It's not your day.'

Muriel looked deeply affronted that Mr Weasley had spoken to her in such a way, but Mrs Weasley seemed to by trying to keep a look of approval for her husband from showing on her face. Harry tried very hard not to catch Ginny's eye, and was sure she was doing the same; it would be very inappropriate for them both to burst out at laughing at the beginning of the ceremony.

The tufty-haired wizard was apparently oblivious to all of this, and continued to speak. 'If any witch or wizard knows of any reason why this couple should not be bonded in matrimony, let them speak it now.'

Ron turned to look at the congregation, eyebrows raised, as if to say "there'd better not be". A few people giggled.

'Very well,' the wizard continued, 'do you Ronald Bilius, take Hermione Jean, to be your wife, in darkness and light, in poverty and wealth, through wrong and right, through sickness and health? Will you be a husband, friend, and confidant to her, with abiding love, for the rest of your lives?'

'Absolutely,' said Ron. Hermione beamed, her eyes glittering with tears, as the wizard turned to her.

'Do you Hermione Jean, take Ronald Bilius, to be your husband...'

'Yes, definitely,' Hermione interrupted.

The tufty-haired wizard smiled. 'Then I'll take the rest as read,' he replied.

Ron grinned. 'You're lucky she didn't put her hand up to recite the rest back at you,' he said. Hermione laughed – as did several members of the congregation – and she squeezed his hand.

'I believe the Best Man and Maid of Honour have the wedding bands,' said the tufty-haired wizard, smiling at Harry and Ginny. Harry handed Ron an elegant silver ring, as Ginny handed Hermione a matching, larger one. Hermione held out her hand, and Ron slid the ring on her finger, before holding out his hand for her to do the same.

'Wonderful,' said the wizard, warmly, 'it is now my honour to declare you bonded for life. Congratulations.'

'Finally!' shouted George, as Ron pulled Hermione towards him, and gave her a gentle, but lengthy, kiss.

Harry noticed that Ginny also had tears in her eyes now, despite the fact that a beaming smile decorated her face.

The tufty-haired wizard raised his wand above Ron and Hermione's heads, and a shower of silver stars fell upon them, spiralling around their bodies as they slowly parted lips. Those watching broke into applause, as the new Mr and Mrs Weasley turned to face them, each wearing the most joyful expressions Harry had ever seen on either of them.

x x x

Later that evening, Harry was sitting alone at a table, watching, as Ginny danced with Mr Weasley.

'Thinking ahead to your own wedding, Mr Potter?' asked a familiar voice.

'Something like that, Minerva,' he replied, looking up at the headmistress. 'Have a seat; I didn't know you were here.'

'I've only just arrived,' she said, sitting in the vacant chair beside him, 'Christmas day at Hogwarts; couldn't leave until the feast was over. How have you been coping? Since Nurmengard, I mean.'

'I'm fine. Although Hermione was annoyed because the Prophet's cover-story set back her werewolf agenda. Still, on the whole...' He trailed off. McGonagall gazed at him.

'When are you and Miss Weasley planning your wedding for?' she asked, having apparently decided to change the subject.

'July,' he replied. 'Ginny's decided it should be on my birthday; I think she thinks I'll forget our anniversary if it's not tied to something else! The real question is _where_ will it be?'

'Where?' asked McGonagall, with a tone of surprise.

'Yeah, well, Hermione told me that wizarding tradition is to get married at the groom's family home...'

'In Britain that's true,' McGonagall agreed, 'though I believe they have different policies in other countries.'

'Right, well, last time I was in Godric's Hollow, the family home didn't really seem fit for a wedding.'

'I would imagine not.'

'So the venue is proving a bit tricky.'

'I should've thought it was obvious,' said McGonagall, getting to her feet. 'You know where your home is, and there's plenty of space for a wedding.'

'Where?' said Harry, confused.

'Hogwarts,' she replied. 'You and Miss Weasley would be very welcome. Let me know if...'

'Yes!' Harry interrupted, filled with excitement. 'Yeah, that'd be perfect.'

McGonagall smiled. 'Then send me an owl to arrange the details. As for now, I really must go and say hello to Miss Grang... excuse me, _Mrs Weasley_. Nice to see you, Harry.'

She walked away, just as Ginny walked back over, in time to fill the vacant seat.

'Dad stepped on my toe,' she said, rubbing her foot. 'Only twice though, so he's getting better from wedding to wedding.'

'McGonagall says we can get married at Hogwarts,' said Harry.

Ginny slapped her forehead. 'That's perfect,' she replied, 'why didn't we think of that?'

'Dunno,' he said. 'Just picture it; down by the lake, the sun shining; the giant squid splashing about on the surface.'

'Ah yes,' said Ginny, resting her head on his shoulder, 'nothing says romance like an enthusiastic squid.'

Harry laughed, and put his arm around her.

'Oh by the way,' she said, pulling out a small, wrapped box from her handbag. 'Merry Christmas.'

'Aww, Gin,' he said, smiling, and accepting the Christmas present. 'I left mine for you at home.'

'I know,' she said, leaning in for a kiss. 'I found them under the tree this morning; I may just have them on for you when we get back tonight.'

Harry grinned. 'Glad you got the hint.' He unwrapped her gift, and was delighted to find it contained a silver hip-flask, embossed with his initials. 'Ahh cool; thanks Gin. Is this because I kept complaining that I get thirsty out on missions?'

'Of course,' she said. 'Do you like it? They had another one with a snitch on the cap, but I thought that might be a bit flashy for work.'

'No, it's great, thanks.' He kissed her again. As he went to put the hip-flask in his pocket, something caught his eye. 'Hey, who's that dancing with Luna?'

Across the dance floor, was a tall, slightly gawky young man, with short, blonde hair. He appeared to be transfixed by Luna's movements, as she batted away the invisible Nargles that were apparently flying around her head.

'Oh, you know Hermione's boss, Rosalyn?' said Ginny, gazing over at them.

'Yeah,' Harry replied.

'That's her son. Hermione introduced them about an hour ago.'

'Really?' said Harry, curiously. 'So that's Rolf, is it? Certainly seems taken with her, doesn't he?'

'Don't think it'll come to anything though,' said Ginny, shifting her gaze to where Ron and Hermione were dancing. 'He's supposed to be going off on some year-long expedition to study the Tibetan yeti.'

'So he's a magizoologist too?' said Harry.

'Yeah, I guess.'

'But that's exactly what Luna does.'

'Are you trying to play matchmaker, Harry?' said Ginny, looking up at him with a wry smile.

'Looks like they've done that for themselves,' he replied, nodding towards Luna and Rolf, who had just started kissing.

'Well how about that?' said Ginny. 'Maybe I was wrong.'

'Let's hope; it'd be nice for Luna to have someone.' He got to his feet, and held out a hand to his fiancée. 'Wanna dance, wife-to-be?'

'Yeah,' she replied, 'let me just take my shoes off...'

x x x

There was a faint pop on the corner of Grimmauld Place, and two figures appeared from no-where. Slightly drunk, Harry and Ginny strolled along the street towards the front door of Number Twelve. Unbeknown to them, another figure was watching them from the shadows across the road.

'I do love a good wedding,' said Ginny, 'we should have one.'

'Oh ok,' said Harry. 'How does July sound?'

'That sounds good to me. Does it sound good to you?'

'It sounds good to me too, Miss Weasley, because I can't wait to marry... who's that?'

Harry squinted through the darkness, as the figure stepped out of the shadows. As the street light hit the long, blonde hair of Lucius Malfoy, Harry whipped out his wand.

'I'm not here to fight, Potter,' said Lucius. 'Quite the reverse.'

'Sorry, he's already on a promise,' said Ginny. Harry snorted a laugh.

Lucius scowled. 'I suggest,' he said quietly, 'that you both take what I have to say seriously. I'm here to help you.'

'You're what?' Harry scoffed. 'Why would I want help from you, Malfoy?'

'Because I have information that you want, and _need_.'

'Which is?' asked Ginny.

'First, I want a full pardon,' said Lucius, pulling himself up straight. 'For me, and for my family. And I want Ministry protection.'

Harry rolled his eyes. 'Of course you do. Good night, Mr Malfoy...' He lowered his wand and turned towards the front door.

'I know where Legion plans to strike next,' said Lucius. He sounded panicked now, and his tonal shift alone was enough to engage Harry's interest.

'How do you know that?' he asked, turning back around.

'She came to me,' Lucius replied. 'To my house. Asked for my service. I refused; said I didn't want any part of her plan.'

'So...'

'So, she knows where she'll find others. _Willing_ others. Somewhere that you could be waiting for her.'

Harry stared at him. 'Are you saying she's planning to hit...'

'Yes,' said Lucius, nodding. 'Azkaban. And now I've betrayed her, you have to keep my family safe.'

Harry stared at Lucius for a moment, deciding what to do. 'And to think,' he sighed. 'I was having such a good night...'

* * *

><p><strong>Thank you to everyone who has stuck with this story, and left such kind reviews; I realise it's been a long time between updates, but I'm afraid other, more financially-incentivised writingperformance projects have required my focus. I have every intention of finishing this story, so please stay tuned; it just might take a while.**

**Thanks again for reading.**

**Tom**


	20. Chapter 20: Azkaban

**Chapter 20 – Azkaban**

It was just after midnight on a quiet suburban street near Manchester, when, with an almost inaudible pop, a blonde woman, enveloped in a long, black cloak, appeared from no-where. She looked around to gather her bearings, and then hurried along the pavement, her wand, clutched tight in her hand. As she walked, she was careful to read the muggle house numbers; knowing the information she needed resided within Number 73.

_65... 67... 69... 71..._

Finally she arrived at the house; it had a wooden gate over the front path with little white plastic numbers to mark it as "73". A tap from her wand and it swung open, with an angry, rusty creak of its hinges. She walked slowly up the path to the front door, determined not to make another sound until absolutely necessary. She knocked on the door.

'Who... who is it?' said a nervous voice on the other-side.

'April Fool's,' Legion replied, a smile curling at her lips. 'I've been sent to deliver a belated April Fool's gift to a Mr Barnaby Curd, on behalf of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes.'

'Err, yes, just... just a moment.'

There was a moment of silence. Legion considered the situation; Curd was either trying to escape, or signal for help. If she acted now, he wouldn't have time to do either. She raised her wand.

BANG! The front door of Number 73 burst from its frame, and crashed down in the hallway of the house. A few bedroom lights turned on in the neighbouring houses; their residents disturbed by the noise. Legion turned, and pointed her wand at a street lamp. She muttered under her breath, and every lamp on the street surged for a moment, and extinguished. The bedroom lights went out too – the muggles would assume there'd been a power cut.

She turned back to the house, and stepped inside. She walked down the hallway, and entered the living room. She was unsurprised to find that the lights in here were still lit, illuminated by magic. She scanned the room for her quarry, only to locate him, cowering – pathetically – behind the sofa.

'Ok,' she said, 'I lied; I don't have an April Fool's gift for you.'

The man got to his feet; aware that it was too late to hide. He was young; perhaps in his mid to late twenties. He had mousey brown hair, a slender frame, and was shaking with terror.

'I take it you're Barnaby Curd,' she said, casually, looking around the room at the family photos adorned to its walls; the occupants of which were hiding too, peering around the edge of their frames to glimpse a look at Legion. 'Barnaby Curd, of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.'

Barnaby nodded, too scared to speak.

'I take it you're muggle born,' said Legion, gesturing towards the television set in the corner of the room. Barnaby opened his mouth, but no sounds came out. 'Not that it bothers me one way or the other,' she continued. 'Not like _him_; no, as far as I'm concerned, you're fate will be exactly the same, regardless of your blood status, Mr Curd. Do I make myself clear?'

Barnaby nodded again. Legion smiled, curtly. 'So, muggle-born?'

'Yeah... I mean... yes,' he replied, quietly.

'Good for you,' she said, though it was clear she didn't actually care. 'I'm here tonight, Mr Curd, because I'm trying to find the current whereabouts of Azkaban, and – as I understand it – you're one of the few people who knows it.'

'I'll... i'll never tell you...' said Barnaby, finding his voice.

'Tell me?' said Legion with a laugh. 'Come now, Mr Curd; I never dreamed you'd tell me. No, no, no. I don't need you to tell me, because in a moment, I shall know.'

Barnaby looked confused, and then terrified again, as Legion raised her wand to his face.

'_Exedo_,' she muttered. There was a flash of blue light. Barnaby Curd's wand fell to the floor, and bounced on the carpet a couple of times; its owner had vanished.

Legion's mind was suddenly bristling with new information; she knew that an ambassador from the Bulgarian Ministry of Magic was meeting with Shacklebolt the day after next; she knew how Arthur Weasley liked his tea, and most importantly, she _knew _where Azkaban could be found. 'Finally.'

She turned on the spot, vanishing with another – almost silent – pop, and reappeared on a strip of grass; a bitterly cold wind buffeting her unshielded skin. She stared up at the magnificence of the cold, three-walled, fortress before her. _Azkaban_.

Either side of her were several rows of jagged headstones, clumsily marking the graves of those prisoners who had died prior to the end of their sentence. Merely a few yards from her, was the Arctic Ocean – its waves crashing against the shallow coast of the prison's island, and its chill responsible for the wind on her face. She pulled her cloak tight around herself, and marched towards the castle's portcullis. With a lazy wave of her still drawn wand, the Iron Gate began to rise, feeding itself into the wall above.

Inside the fortress, voices could now be heard, shouting out in panic, as the guards realised they were under attack. Legion didn't care; whether they'd been alerted or not, they would be no match for her.

'They shouldn't have got rid of the dementors,' she muttered to herself. '_They_ might actually have stopped me. Foolish old Dumbledore...'

She walked forwards, passing over the threshold, and raising her wand, ready. She entered the central courtyard, and looked up. Each wall had several landings, each on a different storey of the building. The landings were lined with cells, and Legion could just make out their occupants, staring down at her through the metal-barred doors.

'Madam,' said a voice, magically amplified throughout the building, 'the fortress is in lockdown. You are trespassing on Ministry of Magic property. Stand down and present your credentials, or we will be forced to use lethal force.'

Legion lowered her wand.

'Thank you,' said the voice, as over a dozen guards rushed forward, and formed a circle around her, their wands aimed at either her head or chest. The corners of Legion's lips curled into a wicked smile.

'On second thoughts,' she said, raising her wand again, 'I think I'll take the lethal force.'

Teeth-gritted, she spun on the spot; a wild look in her eye, as multiple flashes of green light erupted from her outstretched weapon, each striking a guard, who fell to the floor, dead. Now alone, surrounded by bodies, Legion waved her wand again, and every cell door clicked open. The prisoners stepped out on to the landings, peering down at Legion.

'My friends,' she said, looking up to address them, her arms out wide. 'I am the Legion of the Lost Ones; the Myriad of Souls; and I _am_ your salvation. I intend to live forever, and I seek followers, willing to assist me in my cause. Many of you followed another master; a master who made promises he could not deliver, and now you find yourselves here; locked away from the world; away from your loved ones; away from your freedom. Where is your Dark Lord now?'

She turned her eyes from wall to wall, gazing up at each landing, and listening as a murmur of agreement spread from inmate to inmate. Legion smiled, and continued.

'My power grows every day. You have all seen me walk into this fortress tonight, and cast its defences aside as though they had not been there at all. There is only one, who believes he can stop me. One that, I believe, many of you seek vengeance upon yourselves. Join me, and we shall take down the Aurors; we shall extinguish the Order of the Phoenix; and we shall destroy Harry Potter. What say you?'

'AYE!' chorused the inmates.

'Actually,' said the magically amplified voice, 'I say no.'

The smile of triumph flushed from Legion's face in a heartbeat. She recognised the voice.

Harry stepped out of the shadows, wand ready, and pointed at Legion. 'Ladies and gentlemen,' he said, looking up to the landings above, his voice returned to normal, 'it is time to return to your rooms.'

Several inmates on each landing withdrew wands from within their prison robes, and pointed them at the convicts, gesturing for the latter group to return to their cells. The prisoners did as they were told, and their cell doors locked with a symphony of clicks.

'Aurors,' Legion sighed. 'You planted Aurors as decoy prisoners.'

'We knew you were coming,' Harry replied with a shrug. 'Barnaby Curd sent us a warning when you arrived at his front door. It didn't take him long; we gave everyone who knew Azkaban's location one of these.' He held up a galleon, similar to the ones Hermione had once created to allow Dumbledore's Army to communicate without detection. 'Then he wiped his own memory so you wouldn't know. Need I ask what happened to him?'

'Let's just say, he joined the Legion,' she replied.

Harry sighed; he'd liked Barnaby. 'Then he shall be your last recruit,' he said. A jet of red light shot from the tip of his wand, and streaked towards Legion. She batted it away with a flick of her own, and fired a purple jet back at Harry. He leapt out of the way, diving behind a stone pillar.

From the landings overhead, the other Aurors began raining hexes down on Legion, who had her work cut out to dodge them all. She dived, in the opposite direction to Harry, behind another pillar on the adjacent wall, and under cover from the attacks above.

'You can't win this one, Pascalle,' Harry shouted. 'You're completely surrounded and trapped in a prison.'

'Yet _you_ can't kill me,' she shouted back. 'Not when it might kill someone you know; someone who's part of me. Sounds like a stalemate to me, Potter.'

'Oh, I have no intention of killing you,' Harry replied. 'I'm going to lock you up until I can free everyone you've ever consumed.'

'Good luck to you,' she scoffed, 'I made sure that all the people who knew how to do that are dead.'

Harry scowled. 'Then I guess you'll be sitting in your cell for a very long time.'

He stepped out from behind his pillar, and walked towards Legion, wand outstretched and firing hexes either side of her barricade to prevent her leaving that spot. But she wasn't going down so easily.

Legion darted forth from behind her pillar, using a shield charm to send Harry's hex back at him, before firing a jinx of her own along after it. Harry's own shield belt prevented either spell from hitting him, but now, they were both undercover, and out of the other Aurors' line of sight. It was just between them.

'Do you really think you can take me, Harry?' said Legion, derisively.

'Do you really think I can't?' he snapped back.

'I guess one of us is about to look pretty stupid.' Legion raised her wand at Harry, and vice versa. There was a moment's pause, as they stared at one another, each filled with hate for their opposite.

'_Exedo_,' Legion bellowed, as the flash of blue light streaked towards Harry. He leapt out of its way, and fired two bolts of red light back at her; one missing, the other knocked away by its target.

A surge of flame left Legion's wand, and pulled itself up into the form of a dragon, which roared angrily, and pounded its feet towards the wizard attacking its mistress. Harry turned, and ran across the prison courtyard, diving behind a pillar as a jet of flame left the mouth of the fire-dragon. It just passed Harry by as it blew beyond his shelter and scorched the fortress wall. Appearing from behind his pillar, and feeling the sweltering heat of the beast on his skin, Harry laid eyes on the fire-dragon as it took another breath, preparing to strike again. Muttering an incantation, water poured from the tip of his own wand, and twisted itself up into the form of a giant sea serpent; its aqueous teeth exposed, as it shrieked at the fire-dragon. The water-creature threw itself at the fire-beast, under direction from Harry's wand. Its body crashed into the flames, billowing through the fire to extinguish the beast, and soak Legion, who couldn't get out of its way in time. The serpent crashed into the wall, and precipitated to the floor in a deep puddle.

Seeing Legion off her guard, Harry fired another hex towards her. She just managed to compose herself in time to deflect it, but now she was on the back-foot. Harry knew he had to find a way to restrain her, but how? He fired off three stunners, a body-bind jinx, and a bludgeoning curse. Each one met its target, and although Legion managed to magically shield herself, the force of each spell knocked her backwards, as she struggled to regain her balance. She stood just a foot from the prison wall, and an idea formed in Harry's head.

'_Deliquesco!_' he shouted, as a beam of pink light burst from his wand, and flew towards Legion. She ducked, and it missed her by an inch, striking the wall behind her.

'Haha, missed me!' Legion squealed, gloating at Harry's poor aim.

'Did I?' said Harry. 'I think my aim was perfect. _Vercundus!_'

Another bludgeoning curse shot from Harry's wand, and struck Legion square in the chest, who couldn't raise her wand in time. The force knocked her off her feet and into the wall. Except, the wall appeared to have melted, leaving a gloopy, concrete-like substance, which Legion hit with a loud, wet, splat.

'_Induresco_,' said Harry, causing an orange jet to strike the wall. The concrete substance set immediately, returning to stone, and trapping Legion in the wall. Her head, arms, and feet were still exposed, but the stone was gripped around her torso, preventing her from getting free.

'_Expelliarmus!_' Harry muttered, pointing his wand at Legion's. It flew from her hand, and was caught by her captor. 'Turns out you were right,' he said, with a smile, 'one of us does look pretty stupid, Pascalle.'

'Curse you, Potter,' she growled. 'That was cleverer than I gave you credit for. But this won't hold me forever.'

'No indeed, and we've got a range of lovely cells for you to try after this.'

The other Aurors appeared from a nearby staircase, hurrying to join Harry with their wands raised at the new prisoner.

'Good work, Harry,' said Savage, glaring at Legion. 'I haven't seen a duel like that in a while. Liquefying charm on the wall, eh? Very clever.'

'Thanks,' said Harry, handing him Legion's wand. 'Take this to the Ministry, for cataloguing. She won't need it for a while.'

'Don't you want to take it?' Savage replied. 'I'm sure Proudfoot will want to congratulate you personally for this.'

'No, I've got to interrogate the prisoner.'

'Oh goody,' said Legion sarcastically.

'Also,' Harry continued, bitterly, 'see to it that the guards' families are informed of their deaths.'

'That won't be an issue,' Savage replied. 'Azkaban guards know the risks. They're all unmarried, orphans from one-child families – there's no-one to tell.'

Harry sighed. 'Well, tell the Minister then. Their sacrifice should be marked somehow.'

Savage nodded. 'I'll see you back at the office.'

'Yeah, though I imagine I'll be here for a while.' Harry turned back to face Legion.

'Any chance of a cuppa?' she asked. 'Milk, two sugars?'

x x x

An hour later, Legion was still trapped in the fortress wall, but Harry was now seated in front of her. As he'd predicted, Azkaban's new resident was in no hurry to answer questions.

'Ok,' said Harry, rubbing eyes, having finally given up hope of her telling him how to reverse her consumptions. 'Let's try this, why did you really attack Azkaban? You've never wanted followers before tonight; so why try to recruit the Death Eaters?'

'Haven't I?' she replied, coyly. 'I wouldn't say that – I think there's a lot to be said for followers; after all, Harry – you have so many of your own.'

'Friends are not followers,' Harry snapped.

'And Death Eaters are not friends. They weren't the Dark Lord's friends, and they wouldn't have been mine either. I intended to use them exactly as he did.'

'Which was?'

'Cannon-fodder,' said Legion, simply. 'That's all they are. Less talented witches and wizards who want a share of power, but with nothing to offer in return besides their lives. Sure, I could fight you and your little gang of Aurors on my own each time we cross paths, but why waste time defeating you myself, when I could just send the cannon-fodder out to do it instead, leaving me to get on with more important matters?'

'Big talk from someone currently trapped in a wall,' Harry retorted.

Legion sighed. 'Yes, I suppose that's difficult to argue with.'

Harry smirked, and moved on to his next question. 'How did you invent that consumption curse?'

'_Invent_?!' Legion scoffed. 'I didn't _invent_ it! Honestly, Potter, I thought you'd worked out more than this. _Invent it_, indeed!'

'But it was scratched into the wall of _your_ prison cell. _Exedo_, it said.'

'Yeah, that's the curse, genius, but I didn't invent it. I was _given_ it.'

'By who?'

'By Nurmengard's most famous resident.'

'Grindelwald?'

'No, Agnes the hump-backed witch,' Legion snapped, sarcastically. 'Of course, Grindelwald.'

'Then why'd he give it to you? Why not use it himself?'

'I was meant to be his insurance policy against Dumbledore. I don't think Gellert ever really expected the Dark Lord to defeat the old fool, but...'

'He didn't,' Harry interjected.

'What?'

'Voldemort didn't defeat Dumbledore.'

'Didn't he?'

'No.'

'Oh, well, could you bring him to me? I'd love a catch up with dear old Albus.'

Harry scowled. He wasn't going to let Legion provoke him with comments about Dumbledore's death. 'You were saying...'

'So I was. Gellert never thought The Dark Lord would defeat Dumbledore, but he knew his own days were numbered. He didn't have the strength to defeat the Dark Lord himself, but he presumed Dumbledore would triumph in the end.'

'Which he did,' Harry interjected again. 'He gave me all the tools I needed to win.'

'Yes, you and I appear to have a different definition of "triumph", Mr Potter, as I personally don't consider being killed in your own school a _resounding_ victory.'

Harry ignored this and pressed on. 'So, when you say a backup plan?'

'Grindelwald intended me to take on the Dark Lord if Dumbledore fell, and vice versa. He never imagined that they'd both be dead within a year of each other. So here I am; a free agent. All this power, and no-one left who can rival me.'

'Once again, I remind you that you're stuck in the wall.'

'Yes, it's not escaped my notice.'

'Are the people you consume dead?'

'Not exactly. They're a part of me; anything they knew, anything they could do, anything they might've done is mine. I have their life force; each and everyone. I'm...'

'The legion of the lost ones, the myriad of souls, blah blah blah,' said Harry, unimpressed. 'Yeah, I heard your speech; why do you people always think up these nicknames for yourselves?'

'Something to pass the time,' Legion replied. 'Did I mention I'm planning to live forever?'

Harry sighed. 'Well you're going to be living in here forever,' he said. 'Unless you tell me how to free the people you consumed.'

'Can't do that, Harry – sounds like I'm going to need the company anyway.'

'You know, I could just get some Veritaserum down here and make you tell me.'

'A reasonable sounding plan,' she said, nodding. 'Unless, of course, I've consumed a being that's resistant to Veritaserum's effect, like say... a Gringott's goblin.'

Harry rolled his eyes, and got to his feet. 'Ok,' he sighed. 'I guess we're done for now. If you decide you'd like to talk properly, tell the guards, and an Auror will be along to chat.'

'Lovely,' said Legion, 'I look forward to the visitors.'

'You'll get plenty of them,' said Harry, walking to the centre of the prison, and turning back to look at Legion, suspended inside the stonework. 'If you just hang around there.'

'Oh, aren't we funny?' Legion tutted, as Harry turned on the spot, and disapparated.

x x x

_PASQUALLE CHEVALIER (AKA THE LEGION) CAPTURED BY MINISTRY AURORS_

_A Ministry of Magic statement was released to _The Daily Prophet_ this evening, announcing that the dark-witch, Pasqualle Chevalier, has been detained by the Auror Office._

_Chevalier was wanted for the abduction, and presumed murder, of multiple witches, wizards, and magical beings, and has been hunted by the Aurors for almost two years._

_The Ministry haven't released the name of the Auror responsible for her capture, nor the circumstances of her arrest, though it is believed to involve an attack by Chevalier on Azkaban prison, and rumours abound that none other than Harry Potter was the arresting officer. If true, this is likely to lead to a major promotion for Potter, who has quickly become the rising star of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement._

"_I'm not confirming any of the rumours you may have heard," said Kenneth Raventree, Head of the Aurors, when interviewed. "All our Aurors are valued members of the team, but we don't believe in individual credit. Whether Mr Potter was present at the scene is frankly neither here or there, so perhaps you could ask me another question – I'd be delighted to discuss anything to do with the upcoming match between Appleby Arrows and Chudley Cannons this Saturday..."_

_Mr Potter himself was unavailable for comment, though his fiancée, Ginerva Weasley, did tell the Prophet, "he's not answering any questions, so will you leave please, as you're interrupting our training session."_

_Mr Potter and Miss Weasley (a Chaser for the Holyhead Harpies), are due to marry this July, in just under three months time._

'Oh great,' said Ginny, dropping the newpaper's evening edition onto the coffee table. 'Now the wedding's on the cover of the _Prophet_; as if we weren't having enough trouble keeping the guest list down!'

Harry pulled her into a hug. 'I'm sorry, Gin,' he said, 'I was trying to avoid that – that's why I didn't want to speak to them in the first place.'

'Oh, be reasonable, dear,' said Mrs Weasley, 'you're the most famous couple in the entire wizarding community right now, and the date of your wedding is its worst kept secret.'

They were all at the Burrow. Mr and Mrs Weasley had insisted on throwing Harry a celebratory dinner for capturing Legion, and Ginny, Ron, Hermione, Bill, Fleur, Victoire, Andromeda and Teddy had joined them. Teddy and Victoire were playing together on the rug, while the adults sat watching from their chairs.

Ron was laughing, as he had been for most of the night. 'But seriously,' he said, 'you trapped her in the wall?'

Harry grinned, and shrugged. 'I had to improvise.'

Ron laughed again, near breathlessness, and clutching his sides.

'It seems a bit odd though,' said Hermione, 'you spent all that time trying to catch her, and then when you do, it's in the prison of all places.'

'Yeah, tell me about it,' Harry replied, as Ron attempted to control himself, only to burst out once more.

'Doesn't that seem a bit easy though?' said Hermione.

'Oh, come off it, Hermione,' said Ron, 'she's got no wand, and she's trapped in a wall. What's she going to do?'

Hermione shrugged. 'I hope you're right,' she replied.

'By ze way,' said Fleur, 'you must all come to Victoire's birthday party next week.'

'I can't believe she's nearly one already,' said Mrs Weasley, beaming at her granddaughter.

'Indeed,' said Mr Weasley. 'Lots of good news today! We should have a toast; Harry, come and help me find the bottle of Firewhiskey, will you? I've left it in the kitchen somewhere.'

Mr Weasley led the way to the kitchen, closed the door behind them, and pretended to be searching through the cupboard.

'Hermione's got a point you know,' he said, whispering to Harry.

'I do know,' said Harry. 'Legion went down way too easy – every previous time I've duelled her she's disapparated away before I could make a dent. Why would she want to stay for the full fight all of a sudden?'

'Maybe she was testing herself,' Mr Weasley replied. 'Maybe she wanted to see whether she had enough power to actually take you on.'

'She knows she has; she just didn't use it.'

Mr Weasley scratched his head. 'I'll see to it that extra guards are positioned on her cell tomorrow, or rather, her hole in the wall.'

'Probably wise,' said Harry, nodding.

'Though as Ron says,' Mr Weasley replied, pulling a fresh bottle of Firewhiskey down from the top of the cupboard, 'she's not got her wand; she won't escape without that.'

'Yeah,' said Harry, with a grin. 'Her magic's been _literally_ stonewalled.'


End file.
